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THE  DRAMA 

OF 
THE  FORESTS 


A  strange  apparition  was  seen  crossing  the  lake.  It  appeared  to 
have  wings,  but  it  did  not  fly;  and  though  it  possessed  a  tail,  it  did 
not  run,  but  contented  itself  with  moving  steadily  forward  on  its  long 
up-turned  feet.  Over  an  arm  it  carried  what  might  have  been  a 
trident,  and  what  with  its  waving  tail  and  great  outspreading 
wings  that  rose  above  its  horned- like  head,  it  suggested  ,  .  . 
S3?  Chiptcr  VI 


THE  DRAMA  OF 
THE   FORESTS 

T^mance  and  <uidventure 

BY 

ARTHUR   HEMING 
w 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  THE  AUTHOR 
WITH  REPRODUCTIONS  FROM  A 
SERIES  OF  HIS  PAINTINGS  OWNED 
BY  THE  ROYAL  ONTARIO  MUSEUM 


GARDEN    CITY,   N.  Y.,    AND    TORONTO 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE   &    COMPANY 
192  I 


COPYRIGHT,  1921,  BY 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED,  INCLUDING  THAT  OF  TRANSLATION 

INTO  FOREIGN  LANGUAGES,  INCLUDING  THE  SCANDINAVIAN 


PBINTED  AT  THE  COUNTBY  LIFE  PRESS,  GABDEN  CITY,  N.  Y. 

Firtt  Edition 


V.  8.  A. 


TO 
MR.  AND  MRS.  DAVID  A.  DUNLAPj 

WITH  WHOM  I  SPENT  MANY  HAPPY  SEASONS 
IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHERN  FOREST 


MS05393 


CONTENTS 

I.  Romance  and  Adventure 1 

II.  In  Quest  of  Treasure 34 

III.  Oo-Koo-Hoo's  El  Dorado     .......  70 

IV.  Oo-Koo-Hoo  Plays  the  Game Ill 

V.  Meeting  of  the  Wild  Men 160 

VI.  Wild  Animals  and  Men 207 

VII.  Life  and  Love  Return 255 

VIII.  Business  and  Romance 297 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

A  strange  apparition  was  seen  crossing  the  lake.    It  ap- 
peared to  have  wings Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGB 

I  surmised  at  once  who  he  was,  for  one  could  see  by  the 
merest  glance 20 

Going  to  the  brink,  we  saw  a  "York  Boat"  in  the  act  of 
shooting  the  cataract 52 

Minutes  passed  while  the  rising  moon  cast  golden  ripples 
upon  the  water 84 

The  lynx  is  an  expert  swimmer  and  is  dangerous  to  tackle 
in  the  water 100 

Next  morning  we  found  that  everything  was  covered  with 
a  heavy  blanket  of  snow 132 

The  bear  circled  a  little  in  order  to  descend.    Presently  it 
left  the  shadow ' 164 

Going  to  the  stage,  he  took  down  his  five-foot  snowshoes        180 

As  the  wolf  dashed  away,  the  bounding  clog  sent  the 
snow  flying        196 

"  There's  the  York  Factory  packet  from  Hudson  Bay  to 
Winnipeg"         212 

"It  was  on  my  father's  hunting  grounds,  and  late  one 

afternoon"         228 

iz 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING  PAGE 


Oo-koo-hoo  could  even  hear  the  strange  clicking  sound  260 

After  half  of  May  had  passed  away,  and  when  the  spring 
hunt  was  over 292 

The  departure  of  the  Fur  Brigade  was  the  one  great  event 
of  the  year         308 


INTRODUCTION 

It  was  in  childhood  that  the  primitive  spirit  first  came 
whispering  to  me.  It  was  then  that  I  had  my  first  day- 
dreams of  the  Northland — of  its  forests,  its  rivers  and  lakes, 
its  hunters  and  trappers  and  traders,  its  fm--runners  and 
mounted  police,  its  voyageurs  and  packeteers,  its  missionaries 
and  Indians  and  prospectors,  its  animals,  its  birds  and  its 
fishes,  its  trees  and  its  flowers,  and  its  seasons. 

Even  in  childhood  I  was  for  ever  wondering  .  .  .  what 
is  daily  going  on  in  the  Great  Northern  Forest?  .  .  .  not 
just  this  week,  this  month,  or  this  season,  but  what  is  actually 
occurring  day  by  day,  throughout  the  cycle  of  an  entire  year? 
It  was  that  thought  that  fascinated  me,  and  when  I  grew  into 
boyhood,  I  began  delving  into  books  of  northern  travel,  but 
I  did  not  find  the  answer  there.  With  the  years  this  ever- 
present  wonder  grew,  until  it  so  possessed  me  that  at  last  it 
spirited  me  away  from  the  city,  while  I  was  still  in  my  teens, 
and  led  me  along  a  path  of  ever-changing  and  ever-increasing 
pleasure,  showing  me  the  world,  not  as  men  had  mauled  and 
marred  it,  but  as  the  Master  of  Life  had  made  it,  in  all  its 
original  beauty  and  splendour.  Nor  was  this  all.  It  led  me  to 
observe  and  ponder  over  the  daily  pages  of  the  most  profound 
and  yet  the  most  fascinating  book  that  man  has  ever  tried  to 
read;  and  though,  it  seemed  to  me,  my  feeble  attempts  to  de- 
cipher its  text  were  always  futile,  it  has,  nevertheless,  not  only 
taught  me  to  love  Nature  with  an  ever-increasing  passion,  but 
it  has  inspired  in  me  an  infinite  homage  toward  the  Almighty; 
for,  as  Emerson  says:  "In  the  woods  we  return  to  reason  and 
faith.     Then  I  feel  that  nothing  can  befall  me  in  life — no  dis- 

xi 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

grace,  no  calamity  (leaving  me  my  eyes) — ^which  Natm-e  cannot 
repair.  Standing  on  the  bare  gromid — ^my  head  bathed  by  the 
bUthe  air  and  uphfted  into  infinite  space — all  mean  egoism 
vanishes.  ...  I  am  the  lover  of  micontained  and  im- 
mortal beauty." 

So,  to  make  my  life-dream  come  true,  to  contemplate  in  all 
its  thriUing  action  and  imdying  splendour  the  drama  of  the 
forests,  I  travelled  twenty-three  times  through  various  parts  of 
the  vast  northern  woods,  between  Maine  and  Alaska,  and 
covered  thousands  upon  thousands  of  miles  by  canoe,  pack- 
train,  snowshoes,  bateau,  dog-train,  buck-board,  timber-raft, 
prairie-schooner,  lumber-wagon,  and  "alligator."  No  one 
trip  ever  satisfied  me,  or  afforded  me  the  knowledge  or  the 
experience  I  sought,  for  traversing  a  single  section  of  the 
forest  was  not  unhke  making  one's  way  along  a  single  street  of  a 
metropohs  and  then  trying  to  persuade  oneself  that  one  knew 
all  about  the  city's  fife.  So  back  again  I  went  at  all  seasons  of 
the  year  to  encamp  in  that  great  timber-land  that  sweeps  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  Thus  it  has  taken  me  thirty-three 
years  to  gather  the  information  this  volume  contains,  and  my 
only  hope  in  writing  it  is  that  perhaps  others  may  have  had  the 
same  day-dream,  and  that  in  this  book  they  may  find  a  rehable 
and  satisfactory  answer  to  all  their  wonderings.  But  making 
my  dream  come  true — ^what  delight  it  gave  me!  What  sport 
and  travel  it  afforded  me!  What  toil  and  sweat  it  caused  me! 
What  food  and  rest  it  brought  me!  What  charming  places  it 
led  me  through!  What  interesting  people  it  ranged  beside  me! 
What  romance  it  unfolded  before  me!  and  into  what  thrill- 
ing adventures  it  plunged  me! 

But  before  we  paddle  down  the  winding  wilderness  aisle 
toward  the  great  stage  upon  which  Diana  and  all  her  attendant 
huntsmen  and  forest  creatures  may  appear,  I  wish  to  explain 
that  in  comphance  with  the  wishes  of  the  leading  actors — 
who  actually  lived  their  parts  of  this  story — fictitious  names 


INTRODUCTION  adii 

have  been  given  to  the  principal  characters  and  to  the  prin- 
cipal trading  posts,  lakes,  and  rivers  herein  depicted.  Further- 
more, in  order  to  give  the  reader  a  more  interesting,  complete, 
and  faithful  description  of  the  daily  and  the  yearly  life  of 
the  forest  dwellers  as  I  have  observed  it,  I  have  taken  the 
hberty  of  weaving  together  the  more  interesting  facts  I  have 
gathered — ^both  first-  and  second-hand — into  one  continuous 
narrative  as  though  it  all  happened  in  a  single  year.  And  in 
order  to  retain  aU  the  primitive  local  colour,  the  unique  cos- 
tumes, and  the  fascinating  romance  of  the  finr-trade  days  as  I 
witnessed  them  in  my  twenties — though  much  of  the  life  has 
already  passed  away — the  scene  is  set  to  represent  a  certain 
year  in  the  early  nineties. 

Arthur  Heming. 


THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

I 

ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE 

HER  FATHER  THE  FREE  TRADER 

It  was  September  9,  189-.  From  simrise  to  sunset 
through  mist,  sunshine,  shower,  and  shadow  we  travelled,  and 
the  nearer  we  drew  to  our  first  destination,  the  wilder  the 
country  became,  the  more  water-fowl  we  saw,  and  the  more  the 
river  banks  were  marked  with  traces  of  big  game.  Here  signs 
told  us  that  three  caribou  had  crossed  the  stream,  there  muddy 
water  was  still  trickling  into  the  hoofprint  of  a  moose,  and 
yonder  a  bear  had  been  fishing.  Finally,  the  day  of  our  arrival 
dawned,  and  as  I  paddled,  I  spent  much  of  the  time  dreaming  of 
the  adventure  before  me.  As  our  beautiful  birchen  craft  still 
sped  on  her  way,  the  handsome  bow  parted  the  shimmering 
waters,  and  a  passing  breeze  sent  Httle  running  waves  gurgling 
along  her  sides,  while  the  splendour  of  the  autumn  sun  was 
reflected  on  a  far-reaching  row  of  dazzling  ripples  that  danced 
upon  the  water,  making  our  voyageurs  lower  their  eyes  and  the 
trader  doze  again.  There  was  no  other  sign  of  life  except  an 
eagle  soaring  in  and  out  among  the  fleecy  clouds  slowly 
passing  overhead.  All  around  was  a  panorama  of  enchanting 
forest. 

My  travelling  companion  was  a  "Free  Trader,"  whose 
name  was  Spear — a  taU,  stoop-shouldered  man  with  heavy  eye- 
brows and  shaggy,  drooping  moustache.  The  way  we  met  was 
amusing.    It  happened  in  a  certain  frontier  town.    His  first 

1 


;i:  v^    ^.  ; .  THE  DBAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

question  was  as  to  whether  I  was  single.  His  second,  as  to 
whether  my  time  was  my  own.  Then  he  slowly  looked  me 
over  from  head  to  foot.  He  seemed  to  be  measuring  my 
stature  and  strength  and  to  be  noting  the  colour  of  my  eyes 
and  hair. 

Narrowing  his  vision,  he  scrutinized  me  more  carefully  than 
before,  for  now  he  seemed  to  be  reading  my  character — if  not 
my  soul.    Then,  smiling,  he  blurted  out: 

"Come,  be  my  guest  for  a  couple  of  weeks.    Will  you?" 

I  laughed. 

He  frowned.  But  on  realizing  that  my  mirth  was  caused 
only  by  surprise,  he  smiled  again  and  let  flow  a  vivid  descrip- 
tion of  a  place  he  called  Spearhead.  It  was  the  home  of  the 
northern  fur  trade.  It  was  the  centre  of  a  great  timber  region. 
It  was  the  heart  of  a  vast  fertile  belt  that  was  rapidly  becoming 
the  greatest  of  all  farming  districts.  It  was  built  on  the 
fountain  head  of  gigantic  water  power.  It  virtually  stood 
over  the  very  vault  that  contained  the  richest  veins  of  mineral 
to  be  found  in  the  whole  Dominion — at  least  that's  what  he 
said — and  he  also  assured  me  that  the  Government  had  realized 
it,  too,  for  was  it  not  going  to  hew  a  provincial  highway  clean 
through  the  forest  to  Spearhead?  Was  it  not  going  to  build  a 
fleet  of  steamers  to  ply  upon  the  lakes  and  rivers  in  that  sec- 
tion? And  was  it  not  going  to  build  a  line  of  railroad  to  the 
town  itself  in  order  to  connect  it  with  the  new  transcontinental 
and  thus  put  it  in  communication  with  the  great  conmiercial 
centres  of  the  East  and  the  West?  In  fact,  he  also  impressed 
upon  me  that  Spearhead  was  a  town  created  for  young  men 
who  were  not  averse  to  becoming  wealthy  in  whatever  Une  of 
business  they  might  choose.  It  seemed  that  great  riches  were 
already  there  and  had  but  to  be  lifted.    Would  I  go? 

But  when  I  explained  that  although  I  was  single,  and  quite 
free,  I  was  not  a  business  man,  he  became  crestfallen,  but 
presently  revived  enough  to  exclaim: 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  3 

"Well,  what  the  dickens  are  you?" 

"An  artist,"  I  repHed. 

"Oh,  I  seel  Well  .  .  .  we  need  an  artist  very  badly. 
You'll  have  the  field  all  to  yourself  in  Spearhead.  Besides, 
your  pictures  of  the  fur  trade  and  of  pioneer  life  would  eventu- 
ally become  historical  and  bring  you  no  end  of  wealth.  You 
had  better  come.  Better  decide  right  away,  or  some  other 
artist  chap  will  get  ahead  of  you." 

But  when  I  further  explained  that  I  was  going  to  spend  the 
winter  in  the  wilderness,  that  I  had  already  written  to  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Factor  at  Fort  Consolation  and  that  he  was 
expecting  me.  Spear  gloated: 

"Bully  boy!"  and  slapping  me  on  the  shoulder,  he  chuckled: 
"Why,  my  town  is  just  across  the  lake  from  Fort  Consolation. 
A  mere  five-mile  paddle,  old  chap,  and  remember,  I  extend  to 
you  the  freedom  of  Spearhead  in  the  name  of  its  future  mayor. 
And,  man  ahve,  I'm  leaving  for  there  to-morrow  morning  in  a 
big  four-fathom  birch  bark,  with  fom*  Indian  canoe-men.  Be 
my  guest.  It  won't  cost  you  a  farthing,  and  we'll  make  the 
trip  together." 

I  gladly  accepted.  The  next  morning  we  started.  Free 
Trader  Spear  was  a  character,  and  I  afterward  learned  that 
he  was  an  Oxford  University  man,  who,  having  been 
"ploughed,"  left  for  Canada,  entered  the  service  of  the  Hudson's 
Bay  Company,  and  had  finally  been  moved  to  Fort  Consola- 
tion where  he  served  seven  years,  learned  the  fur-trade  business, 
and  resigned  to  become  a  "free  trader"  as  all  fur  traders  are 
called  who  carry  on  business  in  opposition  to  "The  Great 
Company."  We  were  eight  days  upon  the  trip,  but,  strange  to 
say,  during  each  day's  travel  toward  Spearhead,  his  conversa- 
tion in  reference  to  that  thriving  town  made  it  appear  to  grow 
smaller  and  smaller,  until  at  last  it  actually  dwindled  down  to 
such  a  point,  that,  about  sunset  on  the  day  we  were  to  arrive,  he 
turned  to  me  and  casually  remarked: 


4  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

"Presently  you'll  see  Fort  Consolation  and  the  Indian 
village  beyond.  Spearhead  is  just  across  the  lake,  and  by  the 
bye,  my  boy,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  Spearhead  is  just  my  log 
shack.  But  it's  a  nice  httle  place,  and  you'll  like  it  when  you 
pay  us  a  visit,  for  I  want  you  to  meet  my  wife." 

Then  our  canoe  passed  a  jutting  point  of  land  and  in  a  mo- 
ment the  scene  was  changed — ^we  were  no  longer  on  a  river,  but 
were  now  upon  a  lake,  and  the  wilderness  seemed  suddenly  left 
behind. 

AT  FORT  CONSOLATION 

On  the  outer  end  of  a  distant  point  a  cluster  of  poplars 
shaded  a  small,  clapboarded  log  house.  There,  in  charge  of 
Fort  Consolation,  Uved  the  Factor  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company.  Beyond  a  httle  lawn  enclosed  by  a  picket  fence 
stood  the  large  storehouse.  The  lower  floor  of  this  was  used  as 
a  trading  room;  the  upper  story  served  for  a  fur  loft.  Behind 
were  seen  a  number  of  shanties,  then  another  large  building  in 
which  dog-sleds  and  great  birch-bark  canoes  were  stored.  Far- 
ther away  was  a  long  open  shed,  under  which  those  big  canoes 
were  built,  then  a  few  small  huts  where  the  half-breeds  lived. 
With  the  exception  of  the  Factor's  house,  all  the  buildings  were 
of  rough-hewn  logs  plastered  with  clay.  Around  the  sweeping 
bend  of  the  bay  was  a  village  of  tepees  in  which  the  Indian  fur 
hunters  and  their  famihes  spend  their  midsummer.  Crowning 
a  knoll  in  the  rear  stood  a  quaint  httle  church  with  a  small  tin 
spire  glistening  in  the  sun,  and  capped  by  a  cross  that  spread  its 
tiny  arms  to  heaven.  On  the  hill  in  the  background  the  time- 
worn  pines  swayed  their  shaggy  heads  and  softly  whispered  to 
that,  the  first  gentle  touch  of  civilization  in  the  wilderness. 

Presently,  at  irregular  intervals,  guns  were  discharged  along 
the  shore,  beginning  at  the  point  nearest  the  canoe  and  running 
round  the  curve  of  the  bay  to  the  Indian  camp,  where  a  brisk 
fusillade  took  place.    A  moment  later  the  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  5 

pany's  flag  fluttered  over  Fort  Consolation.  Plainly,  the 
arrival  of  our  canoe  was  causing  excitement  at  the  Post. 
Trader  Spear  laughed  aloud : 

"That's  one  on  old  Mackenzie.  He's  taking  my  canoe  for 
that  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Inspector.  He's  generally  due  about 
this  time." 

From  all  directions  men,  women,  and  children  were  swarming 
toward  the  landing,  and  when  our  canoe  arrived  there  must 
have  been  fully  four  hundred  Indians  present.  The  first  to 
greet  us  was  Factor  Mackenzie — ^a  gruff,  bearded  Scotsman 
with  a  clean-shaven  upper  hp,  gray  hair,  and  piercing  gray 
eyes.  When  we  entered  the  Factor's  house  we  found  it  to  be  a 
typical  wilderness  home  of  an  officer  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company;  and,  therefore,  as  far  unlike  the  interiors  of  fur- 
traders'  houses  as  shown  upon  the  stage,  movie  screen,  or  in 
magazine  illustration,  as  it  is  possible  to  imagine.  Upon  the 
walls  we  saw  neither  mounted  heads  nor  skins  of  wild  animals; 
nor  were  fur  robes  spread  upon  the  floors,  as  one  would  expect 
to  find  after  reading  the  average  story  of  Hudson's  Bay  life. 
On  the  contrary,  the  weU-scrubbed  floors  were  perfectly  bare, 
and  the  waUs  were  papered  from  top  to  bottom  with  countless 
iUustrations  cut  from  the  London  Graphic  and  the  Illustrated 
London  News.  The  pictures  not  only  took  the  place  of  wall 
paper,  making  the  house  more  nearly  wind-proof,  but  also 
aiforded  endless  amusement  to  those  who  had  to  spend  therein 
the  long  winter  months.  The  house  was  furnished  sparingly 
with  simple,  home-made  furniture  that  had  more  the  appearance 
of  utihty  than  of  beauty. 

At  supper  time  we  sat  down  with  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  the 
Factor's  half-breed  wife,  who  took  the  head  of  the  table.  After 
the  meal  we  gathered  in  the  Hving  room  before  an  open  fire, 
over  the  mantelpiece  of  which  there  were  no  guns,  no  powder 
horns,  nor  even  a  pair  of  snowshoes;  for  a  fur  trader  would  no 
more  think  of  hanging  his  snowshoes  there  than  a  city  dweller 


6  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

would  think  of  hanging  his  overshoes  over  his  drawing-room 
mantel.  Upon  the  mantel  shelf,  however,  stood  a  few  im- 
framed  family  photographs  and  some  books,  while  above  hung  a 
rustic  picture  frame,  the  only  frame  to  be  seen  in  the  room;  it 
contained  the  motto,  worked  in  coloured  yarns:  "God  Bless 
Our  Home."  When  pipes  were  Ughted  and  we  had  drawn 
closer  to  the  fire,  the  Factor  occupied  a  quaint,  home-made, 
rough-hewn  affair  known  as  the  "Factor's  chair."  On  the 
mider  side  of  the  seat  were  inscribed  the  signatures  and  dates  of 
accession  to  that  throne  of  all  the  factors  who  had  reigned  at 
the  Post  during  the  past  eighty-seven  years. 

A  MIGHTY  HUNTER 

After  the  two  traders  had  finished  "talking  musquash" — 
fur-trade  business — they  began  reminiscing  on  the  more  pictur- 
esque side  of  their  work,  and  as  I  had  come  to  spend  the  winter 
with  the  fur  hunters  on  their  hunting  grounds,  the  subject 
naturally  turned  to  that  well-worn  topic,  the  famous  Nim- 
rods  of  the  North.  It  brought  forth  many  an  interesting  tale, 
for  both  my  companions  were  well  versed  in  such  lore,  and  in 
order  to  keep  up  my  end  I  quoted  from  Warren's  book  on  the 
Ojibways:  "As  an  illustration  of  the  kind  and  abundance  of 
animials  which  then  covered  the  country,  it  is  stated  that  an 
Ojibway  hunter  named  No-Ka,  the  grandfather  of  Chief  White 
Fisher,  killed  in  one  day's  hunt,  starting  from  the  mouth  of 
Crow  Wing  River,  sixteen  elk,  foiu"  buffalo,  five  deer,  three 
bear,  one  lynx,  and  one  porcupine.  There  was  a  trader  winter- 
ing at  the  time  at  Crow  Wing,  and  for  his  winter's  supply  of 
meat,  No-Ka  presented  him  with  the  fruits  of  his  day's 
hunt." 

My  host  granted  that  that  was  the  biggest  day's  bag  he  had 
ever  heard  of,  and  Trader  Spear,  withdrawing  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth,  remarked: 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  7 

"No-Ka  must  have  been  a  great  hunter.  I  would  Hke  to 
have  had  his  trade.  But,  nevertheless,  I  have  heard  of  an 
Indian  who  might  have  been  a  match  for  him.  He,  too,  was  an 
Ojibway,  and  his  name  was  Narphim.  He  hved  somewhere 
out  in  the  Peace  River  country,  and  I've  heard  it  stated  that 
he  killed,  in  his  lifetime,  more  than  eighty  thousand  Hving 
things.    Some  bag  for  one  hunter." 

Since  Trader  Spear  made  that  interesting  remark  I  have  had 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  a  factor  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company 
who  knew  Narphim  from  boyhood,  and  who  was  a  personal 
friend  of  his,  and  who  was  actually  in  charge  of  a  number  of 
posts  at  which  the  Indian  traded.  Owing  to  their  friendship 
for  one  another,  the  Factor  took  such  a  personal  pride  in  the 
fame  the  hunter  won,  that  he  compiled,  from  the  books  of  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company,  a  complete  record  of  all  the  fur-bear- 
ing animals  the  Indian  kiUed  between  the  time  he  began  to 
trade  as  a  hunter  at  the  age  of  eleven,  until  his  himting  days 
were  ended.  Furthermore,  in  discussing  the  subject  with 
Narphim  they  together  compiled  an  approximate  Ust  of  the 
number  of  fish,  wild  fowl,  and  rabbits  that  the  hunter  must 
have  secured  each  season,  and  thus  Narphim's  record  stands 
as  the  following  figures  show.  I  would  teU  you  the  Factor's 
name  but  as  he  has  written  to  me :  "  For  many  cogent  reasons 
it  is  desirable  that  my  name  be  not  mentioned  officially  in  your 
book,"  I  must  refrain.  I  shall,  however,  give  you  the  history 
of  Narphim  in  the  Factor's  own  words: 

"Narphim's  proper  name  remains  unknown  as  he  was  one 
of  two  children  saved  when  a  band  of  Ojibways  were  drowned 
in  crossing  a  large  lake  that  Hes  S.  E.  of  Cat  Lake  and  Island 
Lake,  and  S.  E.  of  Norway  House.  He  was  called  Nar- 
phim— Saved  from  the  Waters.  The  other  child  that  was 
rescued  was  a  girl  and  she  was  called  Neseemis — Our  Little 
Sister.  At  first  Narphim  was  adopted  and  Hved  with  a 
Swampy  Cree  chief,  the  celebrated  Keteche-ka-paness,  who 


8  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

was  a  great  medicine  man.  When  Narphim  grew  to  be  eleven 
years  old  he  became  a  hunter,  and  first  traded  his  catch  at 
Island  Lake;  then  as  the  years  went  by,  at  Oxford  House; 
then  at  Norway  House,  then  at  Fort  Chepewyan,  and  then 
at  Fort  McMurray.  After  that  he  went  to  Lesser  Slave  Lake, 
then  on  to  the  Peace  River  at  Dunvegan,  then  he  showed 
up  at  Fort  St.  John,  next  at  Battle  River,  and  finally  at 
Vermihon. 

"The  following  is  a  fist  of  the  number  of  creatures  Narphim 
killed,  but  of  course  he  also  killed  a  good  deal  of  game  that 
was  never  recorded  in  the  Company's  books,  especially  those 
animals  whose  skins  were  used  for  the  clothing  of  the  hunter's 
family. 

"Bears  585,  beaver  1,080,  ermines  130,  fishers  195,  red 
foxes  362,  cross  foxes  78,  silver  and  black  foxes  6,  lynxes  418, 
inartens  1,078,  minks  384,  muskrats  900,  porcupines  19,  otters 
194,  wolves  112,  wolverines  24,  wood  buffaloes  99,  moose  396, 
caribou  196,  jumping  deer  72,  wapiti  156,  mountain  sheep  60, 
mountain  goats  29;  and  rabbits,  approximately  8,000,  wild 
fowl,  approximately  23,800,  and  fish  approximately  36,000. 
Total  74,573. 

"Yes,  Narphim  was  a  great  hunter  and  a  good  man,"  says 
the  Factor  in  his  last  letter  to  me.  "He  was  a  fine,  active, 
well-built  Indian  and  a  reliable  and  pleasant  companion.  In 
fact,  he  was  one  of  Nature's  gentlemen,  whom  we  shall  be,  and 
well  may  be,  proud  to  meet  in  the  Great  Beyond,  known  as  the 
Happy  Hunting  Grounds." 

Thus  the  evening  drifted  by.  While  the  names  of  several 
of  the  best  hunters  had  been  mentioned  as  suitable  men  for 
me  to  accompany  on  their  hunting  trail,  it  was  suggested  that 
as  the  men  themselves  would  probably  visit  the  Post  in  the 
morning,  I  should  have  a  chat  with  them  before  making  my 
selection.  Both  Mackenzie  and  Spear,  however,  seemed 
much  in  favour  of  my  going  with  an  Indian  called  Oo-koo-hoo. 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  9 

Presently  the  clock  struck  ten  and  we  turned  in,  the  Free 
Trader  sharmg  a  big  feather  bed  with  me. 

THEIR   SUMMER   LIFE 

After  breakfast  next  morning  I  strolled  about  the 
picturesque  point.  It  was  a  windless,  hazy  day.  An  early 
frost  had  already  clothed  a  number  of  the  trees  with  their 
gorgeous  autumnal  mantles,  the  forerunners  of  Indian  summer, 
the  most  glorious  season  of  the  Northern  year. 

When  I  turned  down  toward  the  wharf,  I  found  a  score  of 
Indians  and  half-breed  trippers  unloading  freight  from  a 
couple  of  six-fathom  birch-bark  canoes.  Eager  men  and 
boys  were  good-naturedly  loading  themselves  with  packs  and 
hurrying  away  with  them  to  the  storehouse,  while  others  were 
lounging  around  or  applauding  the  carriers  with  the  heaviest 
loads.  As  the  packers  hurried  by,  Delaronde,  the  jovial, 
swarthy-faced,  French-Canadian  clerk,  note-book  in  hand, 
checked  the  number  of  pieces.  Over  by  the  log  huts  a  group 
of  Indian  women  were  sitting  in  the  shade,  talking  to  Dela- 
ronde's  Indian  wife.  All  about,  and  in  and  out  of  the  Indian 
lodges,  dirty,  half-naked  children  romped  together,  and  savage 
dogs  prowled  around  seeking  what  they  might  devour.  The 
deerskin  or  canvas  covers  of  most  of  the  tepees  were  raised  a 
few  feet  to  allow  the  breeze  to  pass  under.  Small  groups  of 
women  and  children  squatted  or  reclined  in  the  shade,  smoking 
and  chatting  the  hours  away.  Here  and  there  women  were 
cleaning  fish,  mending  nets,  weaving  mats,  making  clothes,  or 
standing  over  steaming  kettles.  Many  of  the  men  had  joined 
the  "goods  brigade,"  and  their  return  was  hourly  expected. 
Many  canoes  were  resting  upon  the  sandy  beach,  and  many 
more  were  lying  bottom  up  beneath  the  shade  of  trees. 

The  most  important  work  undertaken  by  the  Indians  during 
the  summer  is  canoe  building.    As  some  of  the  men  are  more 


10  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

expert  at  this  than  others,  it  often  happens  that  the  bulk  of  the 
work  is  done  by  a  few  who  engage  in  it  as  a  matter  of  business. 
Birch  bark  for  canoe  building  is  taken  from  the  tree  early  in 
May.  The  chosen  section,  which  may  run  from  four  to  eight 
feet  in  length,  is  first  cut  at  the  top  and  bottom;  then  a  two- 
inch  strip  is  removed  from  top  to  bottom  in  order  to  make 
room  for  working  a  chisel-shaped  wooden  wedge — about  two 
feet  long — ^with  which  the  bark  is  taken  off.  Where  knots 
appear  great  care  is  exercised  that  the  bark  be  not  torn.  To 
make  it  easier  to  pack,  the  sheet  of  bark  is  then  rolled  up  the 
narrow  way,  and  tied  with  willow.  In  this  shape,  it  is  trans- 
ported to  the  summer  camping  grounds.  Canoes  range  in 
size  all  the  way  from  twelve  feet  to  thirty-six  feet  in  length. 
The  smaller  size,  being  more  easily  portaged,  is  used  by  hunters, 
and  is  known  as  a  two-fathom  canoe.  For  family  use  canoes 
are  usually  from  two  and  a  half  to  three  and  a  half  fathoms 
long.  Canoes  of  the  largest  size,  thirty-six  feet,  are  called  six- 
fathom  or  "North"  canoes.  With  a  crew  of  from  eight  to 
twelve,  they  have  a  carrying  capacity  of  from  three  to  four  tons, 
and  are  used  by  the  traders  for  transporting  furs  and  supphes. 
Some  Indians  engage  in  "voyaging"  or  "tripping"  for  the 
traders — ^taking  out  fur  packs  to  the  steamboats  or  railroads, 
by  six-fathom  canoe,  York  boat,  or  sturgeon-head  scow  bri- 
gades, and  bringing  in  supplies.  Others  put  in  part  of  their 
time  on  an  occasional  hunt  for  moose  or  caribou,  or  in  shooting 
wild  fowl.  On  their  return  they  potter  around  camp  making 
paddles  or  snowshoe  frames;  or  they  give  themselves  up  to 
gambling — a  vice  to  which  they  are  rather  prone.  Sometimes 
twenty  men  or  more,  divided  into  equal  sides,  will  sit  in  the 
form  of  an  oval,  with  their  hair  drawn  over  their  faces  that 
their  expression  may  not  easily  be  read,  and  with  their  knees 
covered  with  blankets.  Leaders  are  chosen  on  either  side, 
and  each  team  is  suppUed  with  twelve  small  sticks.  The  game 
begins  by  one  of  the  leaders  placing  his  closed  hands  upon  his 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  11 

blanket,  and  calling  upon  the  other  to  match  him.  If  the  latter 
is  holding  his  stick  in  the  wrong  hand,  he  loses;  and  so  the  game 
goes  on.  Two  sets  of  drummers  are  playing  continuously  and 
all  the  while  there  is  much  chanting.  In  this  simple  wise  they 
gamble  away  their  belongings,  even  to  their  clothing,  and, 
sometimes,  their  wives.  When  the  wives  are  at  stake,  however, 
they  have  the  privilege  of  taking  a  hand  in  the  game. 

The  women,  in  addition  to  their  regular  routine  of  summer 
camp  duties,  occupy  themselves  with  fishing,  moccasiu  mak- 
ing, and  berry  picking.  The  girls  join  their  mothers  in  picking 
berries,  which  are  plentiful  and  of  great  variety — ^raspberries, 
strawberries,  cranberries,  blueberries,  gooseberries,  swamp- 
berries,  saskatoonberries,  pembinaberries,  pheasantberries, 
bearberries,  and  snakeberries.  They  gather  also  wild  celery, 
the  roots  of  rushes,  and  the  inner  bark  of  the  poplar — all 
which  they  eat  raw.  In  some  parts,  too,  they  gather  wild  rice. 
Before  their  summer  holidays  are  over,  they  have  usually 
secured  a  fair  stock  of  dried  berries,  smoked  meats  and  bladders 
and  casings  filled  with  fish  oil  or  other  soft  grease,  to  help  out 
their  bill  of  fare  during  the  winter.  The  women  devote  most 
of  their  spare  moments  to  bead,  hair,  porcupine,  or  silk  work 
which  they  use  for  the  decoration  of  their  clothing.  They 
make  mos-quit-moots,  or  hunting  bags,  of  plaited  hahiche, 
or  deerskin  thongs,  for  the  use  of  the  men.  The  girl's  first 
lesson  in  sewing  is  always  upon  the  coarsest  work;  such  as 
joining  skins  together  for  lodge  coverings.  The  threads  used 
are  made  from  the  sinews  of  the  deer  or  the  wolf.  These 
sinews  are  first  hung  outside  to  dry  a  httle,  and  are  then  spKt 
into  the  finest  threads.  The  thread-maker  passes  each  strand 
through  her  mouth  to  moisten  it,  then  places  it  upon  her  bare 
thigh,  and  with  a  quick  movement  rolls  it  with  the  flat  of  her 
hand  to  twist  it.  Passing  it  again  through  her  mouth,  she  ties 
a  knot  at  one  end,  points  the  other,  and  puts  it  away  to  dry. 
The  result  is  a  thread  like  the  finest  hair-wire. 


12  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

For  colouring  moose  hair  or  porcupine  quills  for  fancy  work, 
the  women  obtain  their  dyes  in  the  following  ways:  From  the 
juice  of  boiled  cranberries  they  derive  a  magenta  dye.  From 
alder  bark,  boiled,  beaten,  and  strained,  they  get  a  dark, 
slate-coloured  blue  which  is  mixed  with  rabbits'  gall  to  make  it 
adhere.  The  juice  of  bearberries  gives  them  a  bright  red. 
From  gunpowder  and  water  they  obtain  a  fine  black,  and 
from  coal  tar  a  stain  for  work  of  the  coarsest  kind.  They 
rely  chiefly,  however,  upon  the  red,  blue,  green,  and  yellow 
ochres  found  in  many  parts  of  the  country.  These,  when  ap- 
phed  to  the  decoration  of  canoes,  they  mix  with  fish  oil;  but  for 
general  purposes  the  earths  are  baked  and  used  in  the  form  of 
powder. 

From  scenes  such  as  I  have  described  the  summer  traveller 
obtains  his  impression  of  the  forest  Indians.  Too  often  their 
life  and  character  are  judged  by  such  scenes,  as  if  these  truly 
represented  their  whole  existence.  In  reality,  this  is  but  their 
holiday  season  which  they  are  spending  upon  their  tribal 
summer  camping  ground.  It  is  only  upon  their  hunting 
grounds  that  one  may  fairly  study  the  Indians;  so,  presently,  we 
shall  follow  them  there.  And  when  one  experiences  the  wild, 
free  life  the  Indian  fives — ^hampered  by  no  household  goods  or 
other  property  that  he  cannot  at  a  moment's  notice  dump  into 
his  canoe  and  carry  with  him  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  if  he 
chooses — one  not  only  envies  him,  but  ceases  to  wonder  which 
of  the  two  is  the  greater  philosopher — the  white  man  or  the 
red;  for  the  poor  old  white  man  is  so  overwhelmed  with 
absurd  conventions  and  encumbering  property  that  he  can 
rarely  do  what  his  heart  dictates. 

FAMILY  HUNTING  GROUNDS 

Don't  let  us  decide  just  yet,  however,  whether  the  Indian 
derives  more  pleasure  from  life  than  does  the  white  man,  at 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  13 

least,  not  until  we  return  from  our  voyage  of  pleasure  and 
investigation;  but  before  we  leave  Fort  Consolation  it  is  well 
to  know  that  the  hunting  grounds  in  possession  of  the  Indian 
tribes  that  live  in  the  Great  Northern  Forest  have  been  for 
centuries  divided  and  subdivided  and  allotted,  either  by  bargain 
or  by  battle,  to  the  main  famihes  of  each  band.  In  many  cases 
the  same  hunting  grounds  have  remained  in  the  undisputed 
possession  of  the  same  famihes  for  generations.  Family  hunt- 
ing grounds  are  usually  delimited  by  natural  boundaries,  such 
as  hills,  valleys,  rivers,  and  lakes.  The  allotments  of  land 
generally  take  the  form  of  wedge-shaped  tracts  radiating  from 
common  centres.  From  the  intersection  of  these  converging 
boundary  lines  the  common  centres  become  the  hubs  of  the 
various  districts.  These  district  centres  mark  convenient 
summer  camping  grounds  for  the  reunion  of  families  after  their 
arduous  labour  during  the  long  winter  hunting  season.  The 
tribal  summer  camping  grounds,  therefore,  are  not  only  situ- 
ated on  the  natural  highways  of  the  country — the  principal 
rivers  and  lakes — but  also  indicate  excellent  fishing  stations. 
There,  too,  the  Indians  have  their  burial  grounds. 

Often  these  camping  grounds  are  the  summer  headquarters 
for  from  three  to  eight  main  famihes;  and  each  main  family  may 
contain  from  five  or  six  to  fifty  or  sixty  hunting  men.  Inter- 
marriage between  famihes  of  two  districts  gives  the  man  the 
right  to  hunt  on  the  land  of  his  wife's  family  as  long  as  he 
"sits  on  the  brush"  with  her — is  wedded  to  her — ^but  the 
children  do  not  inherit  that  right;  it  dies  with  the  father. 
An  Indian  usually  fives  upon  his  own  land,  but  makes  frequent 
excursions  to  the  land  of  his  wife's  family. 

In  the  past,  the  side  boundaries  of  hunting  grounds  have 
been  the  cause  of  many  family  feuds,  and  the  outer  bound- 
aries have  furnished  the  occasion  for  many  tribal  wars.  The 
past  and  the  present  headquarters  camping  grounds  of  the 
Strong  Woods  Indians — as  the  inhabitants  of  the  Great  Northern 


14  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

Forest  are  generally  called — ^lie  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  apart. 

The  natural  overland  highways  throughout  the  country, 
especially  those  intersecting  the  watercourses  and  now  used  as 
the  roadbeds  for  our  great  transcontinental  railways,  were 
not  originally  discovered  by  man  at  all.  The  credit  is  due  to 
the  big  game  of  the  wilderness;  for  the  animals  were  not  only 
the  first  to  find  them,  but  also  the  first  to  use  them.  The  In- 
dian simply  followed  the  animals,  and  the  trader  followed  the 
Indian,  and  the  official  "explorer"  followed  the  trader,  and  the 
engineer  followed  the  "explorer,"  and  the  railroad  contractor 
followed  the  engineer.  It  was  the  buffalo,  the  deer,  the  bear, 
and  the  wolf  who  were  our  original  transcontinental  path- 
finders, or  rather  pathmakers.  Then,  too,  the  praise  bestowed 
upon  the  pioneer  fur  traders  for  the  excellent  judgment  shown 
in  choosing  the  sites  upon  which  trading  posts  have  been 
established  throughout  Canada,  has  not  been  deserved;  the 
credit  is  really  due  to  the  Indians.  The  fur  traders  erected 
their  posts  or  forts  upon  the  tribal  camping  groimds  simply 
because  they  found  such  spots  to  be  the  general  meeting  places 
of  the  Indians,  and  not  only  situated  on  the  principal  highways 
of  the  wilderness  but  accessible  from  all  points  of  the  surround- 
ing country,  and,  moreover,  the  very  centres  of  excellent  fish 
and  game  regions.  Thus  in  Canada  many  of  the  ancient 
tribal  camping  grounds  are  now  known  by  the  names  of 
trading  posts,  of  progressive  frontier  towns,  or  of  important 
cities. 

Now,  as  of  old,  the  forest  Indians  after  their  winter's  hunt 
return  in  the  early  summer  to  trade  their  catch  of  furs,  to  meet 
old  friends,  and  to  rest  and  gossip  awhile  before  the  turning 
leaf  warns  them  to  secure  their  next  winter's  "advances"  from 
the  trader,  and  once  more  paddle  away  to  their  distant  hunting 
grounds. 

The  several  zones  of  the  Canadian  wilderness  are  locally 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  15 

known  as  the  Coast  Country — the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Ocean 
and  Hudson  Bay;  the  Barren  Grounds — the  treeless  country 
between  Hudson  Bay  and  the  Mackenzie  River;  the  Strong 
Woods  Country — the  whole  of  that  enormous  belt  of  heavy 
timber  that  spans  Canada  from  east  to  west;  the  Border 
Lands — the  tracts  of  small,  scattered  timber  that  he  between 
the  prairies  and  the  northern  forests;  the  Prairie  Country;  the 
Mountains;  and  the  Big  Lakes.  These  names  have  been 
adopted  by  the  fur  traders  from  the  Indians.  It  is  in  the  Strong 
Woods  Country  that  most  of  the  fur-bearing  animals  live. 

MEETING    OO-KOO-HOO 

About  ten  o'clock  on  the  morning  after  our  arrival  at  Fort 
Consolation,  Free  Trader  Spear  left  for  home  with  my  promise 
to  paddle  over  and  dine  at  Spearhead  next  day. 

At  noon  Factor  Mackenzie  informed  me  that  he  had  received 
word  that  Oo-koo-hoo — The  Owl — ^was  coming  to  the  Fort 
that  afternoon  and  that,  taking  everything  into  consideration, 
he  thought  Oo-koo-hoo's  hunting  party  the  best  for  me  to 
join.  It  consisted,  he  said,  of  Oo-koo-hoo  and  his  wife,  his 
daughter,  and  his  son-in-law,  Amik — The  Beaver — and  Amik's 
five  children.  The  Factor  further  added  that  Oo-koo-hoo 
was  not  only  one  of  the  greatest  hunters,  and  one  of  the  best 
canoe-men  in  that  district,  but  in  his  youth  he  had  been  a  great 
traveller,  as  he  had  hunted  with  other  Indian  tribes,  on  Hudson 
Bay,  on  the  Churchill,  the  Peace,  the  Athabasca,  and  the 
Slave  rivers,  and  even  on  the  far-away  Mackenzie;  and  was  a 
master  at  the  game.  His  son-in-law,  Amik,  was  his  hunting 
partner.  Though  Amik  would  not  be  home  imtil  to-morrow, 
Oo-koo-hoo  and  his  wife,  their  daughter  and  her  children  were 
coming  that  afternoon  to  get  their  "advances,"  as  the  party 
contemplated  leaving  for  their  hunting  grounds  on  the  second 
day.    That  I  might  look  them  over  while  they  were  getting 


16  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

their  supplies  in  the  Indian  shop,  and  if  I  took  a  fancy  to  the  old 
gentleman — who  by  the  way  was  about  sixty  years  of  age — the 
trader  would  give  me  an  introduction,  and  I  could  then  make 
my  arrangements  with  the  hunter  himself.  So  after  dinner, 
when  word  came  that  they  had  landed,  I  left  the  living  room  for 
the  Indian  shop. 

In  the  old  days,  in  certain  parts  of  the  country,  when  the 
Indians  came  to  the  posts  to  get  their  "advances"  or  to  barter 
their  winter's  catch  of  fur,  the  traders  had  to  exercise  constant 
caution  to  prevent  them  from  looting  the  establishments.  At 
some  of  the  posts  only  a  few  Indians  at  a  time  were  allowed 
within  the  fort,  and  even  then  trading  was  done  through  a 
wicket.  But  that  applied  only  to  the  Plains  Indians  and  to 
some  of  the  natives  of  the  Pacific  Coast;  for  the  Strong  Woods 
people  were  remarkably  honest.  Even  to-day  this  holds  good 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  they  are  now  so  much  in  contact 
with  white  men.  Nowadays  the  Indians  in  any  locality 
rarely  cause  trouble,  and  at  the  trading  posts  the  business  of 
the  Indian  shops  is  conducted  in  a  quiet  and  orderly  way. 

The  traders  do  most  of  their  bartering  with  the  Indians  in 
the  early  summer  when  the  hunters  return  laden  with  the 
spoils  of  their  winter's  hunt.  In  the  early  autumn,  when  the 
Indians  are  about  to  leave  for  their  hunting  grounds,  much 
business  is  done,  but  Httle  in  the  way  of  barter.  At  that  season 
the  Indians  procure  their  outfit  for  the  winter.  Being  usually 
insolvent,  owing  to  the  leisurely  time  spent  upon  the  tribal 
camping  grounds,  they  receive  the  necessary  supplies  on 
credit.  The  amount  of  credit,  or  "advances,"  given  to  each 
Indian  seldom  exceeds  one  third  of  the  value  of  his  average 
annual  catch.  That  is  the  white  man's  way  of  securing,  in 
advance,  the  bulk  of  the  Indian's  prospective  hunt;  yet, 
although  a  few  of  them  are  sometimes  slow  in  settling 
their  debts,  they  are  never  a  match  for  the  civilized  white 
man. 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  17 

When  I  entered  the  trading  room  I  saw  that  it  was  furnished 
with  a  U-shaped  counter  paralleling  three  sides  of  the  room, 
and  with  a  large  box-stove  in  the  middle  of  the  intervening 
space.  On  the  shelves  and  racks  upon  the  walls  and  from 
hooks  in  the  rafters  rested  or  hung  a  conglomeration  of  goods  to 
be  offered  in  trade  to  the  natives.  There  were  copper  pails  and 
calico  dresses,  pain-killer  bottles  and  Hudson's  Bay  blankets, 
sow-belly  and  chocolate  drops,  castor  oil  and  gxm  worms,  frying- 
pans  and  ladies'  wire  bustles,  guns  and  corsets,  axes  and 
ribbons,  shirts  and  hunting-knives,  perfumes  and  bear  traps. 
In  a  way,  the  Indian  shop  resembled  a  department  store  except 
that  all  the  departments  were  jumbled  together  in  a  single 
room.  At  one  post  I  visited  years  ago — that  of  Abitibi — they 
had  a  rather  progressive  addition  in  the  way  of  a  millinery 
department.  It  was  contained  in  a  large  hdless  packing  case 
against  the  side  of  which  stood  a  long  steering  paddle  for  the 
clerk's  use  in  stirring  about  the  varied  assortment  of  white 
women's  ancient  headgear,  should  a  fastidious  Indian  woman 
request  to  see  more  than  the  uppermost  layer. 

Already  a  number  of  Indians  were  being  served  by  the 
Factor  and  Delaronde,  the  clerk,  and  I  had  not  long  to  wait 
before  Oo-koo-hoo  appeared.  I  surmised  at  once  who  he  was, 
for  one  could  see  by  the  merest  glance  at  his  remarkably  pleas- 
ant yet  thoroughly  clever  face,  that  he  was  all  his  name  impUed, 
a  wise,  dignified  old  gentleman,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  observ- 
ing much  more  than  he  gave  tongue  to — a  rare  quality  in  men — 
especially  white  men.  Even  before  I  heard  him  speak  I  liked 
Oo-koo-hoo— The  Owl. 

But  before  going  any  farther,  I  ought  to  explain  that  as  I  am 
endeavouring  to  render  a  faithful  description  of  forest  life,  I  am 
going  to  repeat  in  the  next  few  paragraphs  part  of  what  once 
appeared  in  one  of  my  fictitious  stories  of  northern  life.  I  then 
made  use  of  the  matter  because  it  was  the  truth,  and  for  that 
very  reason  I  am  now  going  to  repeat  it;  also  because  this 


18  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

transaction  as  depicted  is  typical  of  what  usually  happens 
when  the  Indians  try  to  secure  their  advances.  Furthermore, 
I  give  the  dialogue  in  detail,  as  perchance  some  reader  may  feel 
as  Thoreau  did,  when  he  said:  "It  would  be  some  advantage 
to  Kve  a  primitive  and  frontier  life,  though  in  the  midst  of  an 
outward  civiUzation,  if  only  to  learn  what  are  the  gross  neces- 
saries of  life  and  what  methods  have  been  taken  to  obtain 
them;  or  even  to  look  over  the  old  day-books  of  the  mer- 
chants, to  see  what  it  was  that  men  most  commonly  bought  at 
the  stores,  what  they  stored,  that  is,  what  are  the  grossest 
groceries." 

But  while  the  following  outfit  might  be  considered  the 
Indian's  grossest  groceries,  the  articles  are  not  really  neces- 
saries at  all  for  him;  for,  to  go  to  the  extreme,  a  good  woodsman 
can  hunt  without  even  gun,  axe,  knife,  or  matches,  and  can  hve 
happily,  absolutely  independent  of  our  civilization. 

As  the  Factor  was  busy  with  another  Indian  when  the  Chief 
entered — ^for  Oo-koo-hoo  was  the  chief  of  the  Ojibways  of 
that  district — ^he  waited  patiently,  as  he  would  not  deign  to  do 
business  with  a  clerk.    When  he  saw  the  trader  free,  he  greeted : 

''Quay,  quay,  Hugemowr  (Good  day,  Master). 

"  Gude  day,  man  Oo-koo-hoo,  what  can  I  do  for  ye  the  day?  " 
amicably  responded  the  Factor. 

"  Master,  it  is  this  way.  I  am  about  to  leave  for  my  hunting 
grounds;  but  this  time  I  am  going  to  spend  the  winter  upon  a 
new  part  of  them,  where  I  have  not  hunted  for  years,  and 
where  game  of  all  kinds  will  be  plentiful.  Therefore,  I  want 
you  to  give  me  liberal  advances  so  that  my  hunt  will  not  be 
hindered." 

"Fegs,  Oo-koo-hoo,  ma  freen',  yon's  an  auld,  auld  farrant. 
But  ye're  well  kenn'd  for  a  leal,  honest  man;  an'  sae,  Fse  no  be 
unco  haird  upon  ye." 

So  saying,  the  Factor  made  him  a  present  of  a  couple  of  poimds 
of  flour,  half  a  poimd  of  pork,  half  a  pound  of  sugar,  a  quarter 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  19 

of  a  pound  of  tea,  a  plug  of  tobaccx),  and  some  matches.  The 
Factor's  generosity  was  prompted  largely  by  his  desire  to  keep 
the  Indian  in  good  humour.  After  a  httle  friendly  chaffing,  the 
Factor  promised  to  give  the  hunter  advances  to  the  extent  of 
one  hundred  "skins." 

A  "skin,"  or,  as  it  is  often  called,  a  "made  beaver,"  is  equiva- 
lent to  one  dollar  in  the  Hudson  Bay  and  the  Mackenzie  River 
districts,  but  only  fifty  cents  in  the  region  of  the  Athabasca. 

Perhaps  it  should  be  explained  here  that  while  Oo-koo-hoo 
could  speak  broken  Enghsh,  he  always  preferred  to  use  his  own 
language  when  addressing  the  trader,  whom  he  knew  to  be 
quite  conversant  with  Ojibway,  and  so,  throughout  this  book, 
I  have  chosen  to  render  the  Indian's  speech  as  though  it  was 
translated  from  Ojibway  into  Enghsh,  rather  than  at  any  time 
render  it  in  broken  English,  as  the  former  is  not  only  easier  to 
read,  but  is  more  expressive  of  the  natural  quahty  of  the 
Indian's  speech.  In  olden  days  some  of  the  chiefs  who  could 
not  speak  Enghsh  at  all  were,  it  is  claimed,  eloquent  orators — 
far  outclassing  our  greatest  statesmen. 

Oo-koo-hoo,  having  ascertained  the  amount  of  his  credit, 
reckoned  that  he  would  use  about  fifty  skins  in  buying  traps 
and  ammunition;  the  rest  he  would  devote  to  the  purchase  of 
necessaries  for  himself  and  his  party,  as  his  son-in-law  had 
arranged  with  him  to  look  after  his  family's  wants  in  his 
absence.  So  the  old  gentleman  now  asked  for  the  promised 
skins.  He  was  handed  one  hundred  marked  goose  quills  repre- 
senting that  number  of  skins.  After  checking  them  over  in 
bunches  of  ten,  he  entrusted  twenty  to  his  eldest  grandson, 
Ne-geek — ^The  Otter — to  be  held  in  reserve  for  ammunition  and 
tobacco,  and  ten  to  his  eldest  granddaughter,  Neykia,  with 
which  to  purchase  an  outfit  for  the  rest  of  the  party. 

For  a  long  time  Oo-koo-hoo  stood  immersed  in  thought. 
At  last  his  face  brightened.  He  had  reached  a  decision.  For 
years  he  had  coveted  a  new  muzzle-loading  gun,  and  he  felt 


20  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

that  the  time  had  now  arrived  to  get  it.  So  he  picked  out  one 
valued  at  forty  skins  and  paid  for  it.  Then,  taking  back  the 
quills  his  grandson  held,  he  bought  twenty  skins'  worth  of 
powder,  caps,  shot,  and  bullets.  Then  he  selected  for  himself  a 
couple  of  pairs  of  trousers,  one  pair  made  of  moleskin  and  the 
other  of  tweed,  costing  ten  skins;  two  shirts  and  a  suit  of  under- 
wear, ten  skins ;  half  a  dozen  assorted  traps,  ten  skins.  Finding 
that  he  had  used  up  all  his  quills,  he  drew  on  those  set  aside  for 
his  wife  and  son-in-law's  family  and  bought  tobacco,  five  skins; 
files,  one  skin;  an  axe,  two  skins;  a  knife,  one  skin;  matches, 
one  half  skin;  and  candy  for  his  youngest  grandchild,  one  half 
skin.  On  looking  over  his  acquisitions  he  discovered  that  he 
must  have  at  least  ten  skins'  worth  of  twine  for  nets  and  snares, 
five  skins'  worth  of  tea,  one  skin  worth  of  soap,  one  skin  worth 
of  needles  and  thread,  as  well  as  a  tin  pail  and  a  new  frying  pan. 
After  a  good  deal  of  hagghng,  the  Factor  threw  him  that 
number  of  quills,  and  Oo-koo-hoo's  manifest  contentment 
somewhat  relieved  the  trader's  anxiety. 

A  moment  later,  however,  Oo-koo-hoo  was  reminded  by  his 
wife,  Ojistoh,  that  there  was  nothing  for  her,  so  she  determined 
to  interview  the  Factor  herself.  She  tried  to  persuade  him  to 
give  her  twenty  skins  in  trade,  and  promised  to  pay  for  them  in 
the  spring  with  rat  and  ermine  skins,  or — should  those  fail  her — 
with  her  dog,  which  was  worth  fully  thirty  skins.  She  had  been 
counting  on  getting  some  cotton  print  for  a  dress,  as  well  as 
thread  and  needles,  to  say  nothing  of  extra  tea,  which  in  all 
would  amount  to  at  least  thirty-five  or  forty  skins.  When, 
however,  the  Factor  allowed  her  only  ten  skins,  her  disap- 
pointment was  keen,  and  she  ended  by  getting  a  shawl.  Then 
she  left  the  trading  room  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Factor's  wife,  and 
confide  to  her  the  story  of  her  expectations  and  of  her  disap- 
pointment so  movingly  that  she  would  get  a  cup  of  tea,  a  word  of 
sympathy,  and  perhaps  even  an  old  petticoat. 

In  the  meantime,  Oo-koo-hbo  was  catching  it  again.    He  had 


.4. 


/  surmised  at  once  who  he  was,  for  one  could  see  by  the  merest 
glance  at  his  remarkably  pleasant  yet  thoroughly  clever  face,  that  he 
was  all  his  name  implied,  a  wise  dignified  old  gentleman,  who  was 
in  the  habit  of  observing  much  more  than  he  gave  tongue  to — a  rare 
quality  in  men — especially  white  men.     Even  before  I  heard  him 


speak  I  liked  Oo-koo-hoo — The 


Sec  Chapter  I 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  21 

forgotten  his  daughter;  so  after  more  hagghng  the  trader 
agreed  to  advance  her  ten  skins.  Her  mind  had  long  been 
made  up.  She  bought  a  three-point  blanket,  a  small  head 
shawl,  and  a  piece  of  cotton  print.  Then  the  grandsons  crowded 
round  and  grumbled  because  there  was  nothing  for  them. 

By  this  time  the  trader  was  beginning  to  feel  that  he  had 
done  pretty  well  for  the  family  already;  but  he  kept  up  the 
appearance  of  bluff  good  humour,  and  asked: 

"Well,  Oo-koo-hoo,  what  wad  ye  be  wantin'  for  the  laddies.^  " 

"My  grandsons  are  no  bunglers,  as  you  know,"  said  the 
proud  old  grandsire.  "They  can  each  kill  at  least  twenty 
skins'  worth  of  fur." 

"Aye,  aye!"  rejoined  the  trader.  "I  shall  e'en  gi'e  them 
twenty  atween  them." 

In  the  goodness  of  his  heart  he  offered  the  boys  some  advice 
as  to  what  they  should  buy:  "  Ye'll  be  wantin'  to  buy  traps, 
I'm  jalousin',  an'  sure  ye'll  turn  oot  to  be  graun'  hunters, 
Nimrods  o'  the  North  that  men'll  mak'  sangs  aboot  i'  the  comin' 
years."  He  cautioned  them  to  choose  wisely,  because  from 
henceforth  they  would  be  personally  responsible  for  everything 
they  bought,  and  must  pay,  "skin  for  skin"  (the  motto  of  the 
Hudson's   Bay   Company). 

The  boys  hstened  with  gloomy  civihty,  and  then  purchased 
an  assortment  of  useless  trifles  such  as  ribbons,  tobacco,  but- 
tons, candy,  rings,  pomatum,  perfume,  and  Jew's  harps. 

The  Factor's  patience  was  now  nearly  exhausted.  He 
picked  up  his  account  book,  and  strode  to  the  door,  and  held  it 
open  as  a  hint  to  the  Indians  to  leave.  But  they  pretended  to 
take  no  notice  of  his  action. 

The  granddaughters,  who  had  been  growing  more  and  more 
anxious  lest  they  should  be  forgotten,  now  began  to  be  voluble 
in  complaint.  Oo-koo-hoo  called  the  trader  aside  and  explained 
the  trouble.  The  Factor  realized  that  he  was  in  a  comer,  and 
that  if  he  now  refused  further  supphes  he  would  offend  the  old 


22  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

chief,  and  drive  him  to  sell  his  best  furs  to  the  opposition 
trader  in  revenge.  He  surrendered,  and  the  girls  received  ten 
skins  between  them. 

At  long  last  everyone  was  pleased  except  the  unhappy 
Factor.  Gathering  his  purchases  together,  Oo-koo-hoo  tied 
up  the  powder,  shot,  tea,  and  sugar  in  the  legs  of  the  trousers; 
placed  the  purchases  for  his  wife,  daughter,  and  granddaughters 
in  the  shawl,  and  the  rest  of  the  goods  in  the  blanket. 

Then  he  made  the  discovery  that  he  had  neither  flour  nor 
grease.  He  could  not  start  without  them.  The  Factor's 
blood  was  now  almost  at  the  boiling  pitch,  but  he  dared  not 
betray  his  feelings;  for  the  Indian  was  ready  to  take  offence  at 
the  slightest  word,  so  rich  and  independent  did  he  feel.  Anger- 
ing him  now  would  simply  mean  adding  to  the  harvest  of  the 
opposition  trader.  He  chewed  his  lower  lip  in  the  effort  to 
smother  his  disgust,  and  growled  out  with  an  angry  grin: 

"Hoots,  mon,  ye  ha'e  gotten  ower  muckle  already.  It's 
fair  redeeklus.     I  jist  canna  gi'e  ye  onythin'  meiir  ava!" 

"Ah,  but,  master,  you  have  forgotten  that  I  am  a  great 
hunter.  And  that  my  son-in-law  is  a  great  hunter,  too.  This 
is  but  the  outfit  for  a  lazy  man!  Besides,  the  Great  Company 
is  rich,  and  I  am  poor.  If  you  will  be  stingy,  I  shall  not  trouble 
you  more." 

Once  again  the  Factor  gave  way,  and  handed  out  the  flour 
and  grease.  All  filed  out,  and  the  Factor  turned  the  key  in  the 
door.  As  he  walked  toward  the  house,  his  spirits  began  to  rise, 
and  he  clapped  the  old  Indian  on  the  back  good-naturedly. 
Presently  Oo-koo-hoo  halted  in  his  tracks.  He  had  forgotten 
something:  he  had  nothing  in  case  of  sickness. 

"Master,  you  know  my  voyage  is  long;  my  work  is  hard; 
the  winter  is  severe.  I  am  not  very  strong  now:  I  may  fall 
ill.  My  wife — she  is  not  very  strong — ^may  faU  ill  also.  My 
son-in-law  is  not  very  strong:  he  may  fall  iU  too.  My  daugh- 
ter is  not.    .    .     ." 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE 


23 


"De'il  ha'e  ye!"  roared  the  Factor,  "what  is't  the  noo?" 

"Never  mind,  it  will  do  to-morrow,"  muttered  the  hunter 
with  an  offended  air. 

"As  Fm  a  leevin'  sinner,  it's  noo  or  it's  niwer,"  insisted 
the  Factor,  who  had  no  desire  to  let  the  Indian  have  another 
day  at  it.  "Come  back  this  vena  minnit,  an'  I'll  gi'e  ye  a 
wheen  poothers  an'  sic  like,  that'll  keep  ye  a'  hale  and  hearty,  I 
houp,  till  ye  win  hame  again." 

The  Factor  took  him  back  and  gave  him  some  salts,  pepper- 
mint, pain-killer,  and  sticking-plaster  to  offset  all  the  ills  that 
might  befall  him  and  his  party  during  the  next  ten  months. 

Once  more  they  started  for  the  house.  The  Factor  was 
ready  to  put  up  with  anything  as  long  as  he  could  get  them 
away  from  the  store.  Oo-koo-hoo  now  told  the  trader  not  to 
charge  anything  against  his  wife  as  he  would  settle  her  account 
himself,  and  that  as  Amik  would  be  back  in  the  morning,  he, 
too,  would  want  his  advances,  and  if  they  had  forgotten  any- 
thing, Amik  could  get  it  next  day. 

The  Factor  scowled  again,  but  it  was  too  late. 

While  the  Indians  lounged  around  the  kitchen  and  talked 
to  the  Factor's  wife  and  the  half-breed  servant  girl,  the  Factor 
went  to  his  office  and  made  out  Oo-koo-hoo's  bill,  which  read: 


(3^  S^^^JI^t^  /^^./65U=^  /^^^ 


©5^ 


24  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

The  Indian  now  told  the  trader  that  he  wanted  him  to  send 
the  "Fur  Runners"  to  him  with  supphes  in  ten  weeks'  time; 
and  that  he  must  have  a  "geese-wark,"  or  measure  of  days,  in 
order  to  know  exactly  when  the  Fur  Runners  would  arrive  at 
his  camp.    So  the  Factor  made  out  the  following  calendar: 


T\(y  6  r'  n  )<.  H I II I  x.m  1 1 1 X  III  iM  yv » u  H  i 


/O 


(f^    ^^jyucJLL  <Sf\fyijuyiA^(2f2Ldth. 


The  above  characters  to  the  left  are  syllabic — a  method  of 
writing  taught  to  the  Indians  by  the  missionaries.  They  spell 
the  words  September,  October,  and  November.  The  I's 
represent  week  days,  and  the  X's  Sundays.  The  calendar 
begins  with  the  18th  of  September,  and  the  crescent  marks  the 
29th  of  November,  the  date  of  the  arrival  of  the  Fur  Runners. 
The  Indian  would  keep  track  of  the  days  by  pricking  a  pin 
hole  every  day  above  the  proper  figure. 

Presently  the  Factor  and  I  were  alone  for  a  few  moments 
and  he  growled: 

"Whit  d'ye  think  o'  the  auld  de'il?" 

"Fine,  I'll  go  with  him,  if  he  will  take  me." 

So  I  had  a  talk  with  the  old  Indian,  and  when  he  learned  that 
I  had  no  intention  of  killing  game,  but  merely  wanted  to  ac- 
company him  and  his  son-in-law  on  their  hunts,  he  consented 
and  we  came  to  terms.    I  was  to  be  ready  to  start  early  on  the 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  25 

morning  of  the  20th.  Then  Oo-koo-hoo  turned  to  the  trader 
and  said: 

"Master,  it  is  getting  late  and  it  will  be  later  when  I  reach 
my  lodge.  I  am  hungry  now,  and  I  shall  be  hungrier  still 
when  I  get  home.     I  am  growing    .     .     ." 

"Aye,  aye,  ma  birkie,"  interrupted  the  Factor,  "I  un'er- 
staun'  fine."  He  bestowed  upon  the  confident  petitioner  a 
further  gratuity  of  flour,  tea,  sugar,  and  tallow,  a  clay  pipe,  a 
plug  of  tobacco  and  some  matches,  so  as  to  save  him  from 
having  to  break  in  upon  his  winter  supphes  before  he  started 
upon  his  journey  to  the  hunting  grounds.  Oo-koo-hoo  sol- 
emnly expressed  his  gratitude: 

"Master,  my  heart  is  pleased.  You  are  my  father.  I  shall 
now  hunt  well,  and  you  shall  have  all  my  fm*." 

To  show  his  appreciation  of  the  compliment,  the  Factor  gave 
him  an  old  shirt,  and  wished  him  good  luck. 

In  the  meantime,  Oo-koo-hoo's  wife  had  succeeded  in  ob- 
taining from  the  Factor's  wife  old  clothes  for  her  grandchildren, 
needles  and  thread,  and  some  food.  Just  as  they  got  ready  to 
go,  the  younger  woman,  Amik's  wife,  remembered  that  the 
baby  had  brought  a  duck  as  a  present  for  the  Factor's  children 
so  they  had  to  give  a  present  in  return,  worth  at  least  twice  as 
much  as  the  duck. 

The  Factor  and  his  family  were  by  this  time  suflQciently 
weary.  Right  willingly  did  they  go  down  to  the  landing  to  see 
the  Indians  off.  No  sooner  had  these  taken  their  places  in  the 
canoes  and  paddled  a  few  strokes  away  than  the  grandmother 
remembered  that  she  had  a  present  for  the  Factor  and  his  wife. 
All  paddled  back  again,  and  the  Factor  and  his  wife  were  each 
presented  with  a  pair  of  moccasins.  No,  she  would  not  take 
anything  in  return,  at  least,  not  just  now.  To-morrow,  per- 
haps, when  they  came  to  say  good-bye. 

"Losh  me!  I  thocht  they  were  aff  an'  gane,"  exclaimed 
the  trader  as  he  turned  and  strode  up  the  beach. 


26  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

I  inwardly  laughed,  for  any  man — red,  white,  black,  or 
yellow — ^who  could  make  such  a  hard-headed  old  Scotsman  as 
Donald  Mackenzie  loosen  up,  was  certainly  clever;  and  the  way 
old  Oo-koo-hoo  made  off  with  such  a  lot  of  suppUes  proved  him 
more  than  a  match  for  the  trader. 


THE  BEST  FUR  DISTRICTS 

While  we  were  at  supper  a  perfect  roar  of  gun  shots  ran 
around  the  bay  and  on  our  rushing  to  the  doorway  we  saw  the 
Inspector's  big  canoe  coming.  Up  went  the  flag  and  more  gun 
shots  followed.  Then  we  went  down  to  the  landing  to  meet 
Inspecting  Chief  Factor  Bell. 

After  supper  the  newcomer  and  the  Factor  and  I  sat  before 
the  fire  and  discussed  the  fur  trade.  I  liked  to  listen  to  the  old 
trader,  but  the  Inspector,  being  the  greater  traveller  of  the  two, 
covering  every  year  on  the  rounds  of  his  regular  work  thou- 
sands upon  thousands  of  miles,  was  the  more  interesting  talker. 
Presently,  when  the  subject  turned  to  the  distribution  of  the 
fur-bearing  animals,  Mr.  Bell  took  a  case  from  his  bag  and 
opening  it,  spread  it  out  before  us  upon  the  Factor's  desk.  It 
was  a  map  of  the  Dominion  of  Canada,  on  which  the  names  of 
the  principal  posts  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  were  printed 
in  red.  Across  it  many  irregular  hnes  were  drawn  in  different- 
coloured  inks,  and  upon  its  margins  were  many  written 
notes. 

"This  map,  as  you  see,"  remarked  the  Inspector,  "defines 
approximately  the  distribution  of  the  fur-bearing  animals  of 
Canada,  and  I'll  wager  that  you  have  never  seen  another  Hke 
it;  for  if  it  were  not  for  the  records  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 
pany, no  such  map  could  have  been  compiled.  How  did  I 
manage  it.^^  Well,  to  begin  with,  you  must  understand  that  the 
Indians  invariably  trade  their  winter's  catch  of  fur  at  the 
trading   post   nearest   their  hunting  grounds;   so  when  the 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  27 

annual  returns  of  all  the  posts  are  sent  in  to  the  Company's 
headquarters,  those  returns  accurately  define  the  distribution 
of  the  fur-bearing  animals  for  that  year.  These  irregular 
lines  across  the  map  were  drawn  after  an  examination  of  the 
annual  returns  from  all  the  posts  for  the  last  forty  years. 
Pubhsh  it?    No,  siree,  that  would  never  do!" 

But  the  Inspector's  remarks  did  not  end  the  subject,  as  we 
began  discussing  the  greatest  breeding  grounds  of  the  various 
fur-bearers,  and  Mr.  Bell  presently  continued: 

"The  greatest  centre  for  coloured  foxes  is  near  Salt  River, 
which  flows  into  Slave  River  at  Fort  Smith.  There,  too,  most 
of  the  black  foxes  and  silver  foxes  are  trapped.  The  great 
otter  and  fisher  centre  is  around  Trout  Lake,  Island  Lake, 
Sandy  Lake,  and  God's  Lake.  Otter  taken  north  of  Lake 
Superior  are  found  to  be  fully  one  third  larger  than  those 
killed  in  any  other  region.  Black  bears  and  brown  bears  are 
most  frequently  to  be  met  with  between  Fort  Pelly  and  Portage 
La  Loche.  Cumberland  House  is  the  centre  of  the  greatest 
breeding  grounds  for  muskrat,  mink,  and  ermine.  Manitoba 
House  is  another  great  district  for  muskrat.  Lynxes  are  found 
in  greatest  numbers  in  the  Iroquois  Valley,  in  the  foothills  on 
the  eastern  side  of  the  Rockies.  Coyote  skins  come  chiefly 
from  the  district  between  Calgary  and  Qu'AppeUe  for  a  hundred 
miles  both  north  and  south.  Skunks  are  most  plentiful  just 
south  of  Green  Lake;  formerly,  they  lived  on  the  plains,  but  of 
late  they  have  moved  northward  into  the  woods.  Wolver- 
ines frequent  most  the  timber  country  just  south  of  the  Barren 
Grounds,  where  they  are  often  found  traveUing  in  bands.  The 
home  of  the  porcupine  hes  just  north  of  Isle  a  la  Crosse.  Forty 
years  ago  the  breeding  grounds  of  the  beaver  were  on  the  eastern 
side  of  the  Rockies.  Nowadays  that  region  is  hardly  worth 
considering  as  a  trapping  ground  for  them.  They  have  been 
steadily  migrating  eastward  along  the  ChurchiU  River,  then 
by  way  of  Cross  Lake,  Fort  Hope,  to  Abitibi,  thence  north- 


28  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

easterly  clean  across  the  country  to  Labrador,  where  few  were 
to  be  found  twenty-five  years  ago.  Don't  misunderstand  me. 
I'm  not  saying  that  beaver  were  not  found  in  those  parts 
years  ago,  but  what  I  mean  is  that  the  source  of  the  greatest 
harvest  of  beaver  skins  has  moved  steadily  eastward  during 
the  last  forty  years.  Strange  to  say,  the  finest  marten  skins 
secured  in  Canada  are  not  those  of  the  extreme  northern  limit, 
but  those  taken  on  the  Parsnip  River  in  Rritish  Columbia." 

WANTED,  A  SON-IN-LAW 

Next  morning  I  busied  myself  making  a  few  additions  to 
my  outfit  for  the  winter.  Then  I  borrowed  a  two-and-a-half 
fathom  canoe  and  paddled  across  the  lake  to  Spearhead.  The 
town  I  had  heard  so  much  about  from  the  Free  Trader  was 
just  a  Httle  clearing  of  about  three  acres  on  the  edge  of  the 
forest;  in  fact,  it  was  really  just  a  stump  lot  with  a  small  one- 
and-a-half  story  log  house  standing  in  the  middle.  Where 
there  was  a  rise  in  the  field,  a  small  log  stable  was  set  half  under- 
ground, and  upon  its  roof  was  stacked  the  winter's  supply  of 
hay  for  a  team  of  horses,  a  cow,  and  a  heifer. 

At  the  front  door  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spear  welcomed  me.  My 
hostess  was  a  prepossessing  Canadian  woman  of  fair  education, 
in  fact,  she  had  been  a  stenographer.  On  entering  the  house  I 
found  the  trading  room  on  the  right  of  a  tiny  hall,  on  the  left 
was  the  living  room,  which  was  also  used  to  eat  in,  and  the 
kitchen  was,  of  coiu-se,  in  the  rear.  After  being  entertained 
for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  by  my  host  and  hostess,  I  heard  fight 
steps  descending  the  stairs,  and  the  next  moment  I  beheld  a 
charming  girl.  She  was  their  only  child.  They  called  her 
Athabasca,  after  the  beautiful  lake  of  that  name.  She  was 
sixteen  years  of  age,  tall,  slender,  and  graceful,  a  brunette  with 
large,  soft  eyes  and  long,  flowing,  wavy  hair.  She  wore  a 
simple  little  print  dress  that  was  becomingly  short  in  the  skirt. 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  29 

a  pair  of  black  stockings,  and  low,  beaded  moccasins.  I 
admired  her  appearance,  but  regretted  her  shyness,  for  she  was 
almost  as  bashful  as  I  was.  She  bowed  and  blushed — so  did 
I — and  while  her  parents  talked  to  me  she  sat  demurely  silent 
on  the  sofa.  Occasionally,  I  caught  from  her  with  pleasant 
embarrassment  a  shy  but  fleeting  glance. 

Presently,  dinner  was  announced  by  a  haK-breed  maid, 
and  we  four  took  our  places  at  the  table,  Athabasca  opposite 
me.  At  first  the  talk  was  hvely,  though  only  three  shared  in  it. 
Then,  as  the  third  seemed  rather  more  interested  in  his  silent 
partner,  he  would  from  time  to  time  lose  the  thread  of  the  dis- 
course. By  degrees  the  conversation  died  down  into  silence.  A 
few  minutes  later  Mrs.  Spear  suddenly  remarked: 

"Father  .  .  .  don't  you  think  it  would  be  a  good 
thing  if  you  took  son-in-law  into  partnership?" 

Father  leaned  back,  scratched  his  head  for  a  while,  and 
then  repUed: 

"Yes,  Mother,  I  do,  and  I'll  do  it." 

The  silent  though  beautiful  Athabasca,  without  even 
raising  her  eyes  from  her  plate,  blushed  violently,  and  needless 
to  say,  I  blushed,  too,  but,  of  course,  only  out  of  sympathy. 

"The  horses  are  too  busy,  just  now,  to  haul  the  logs,  but  of 
course  the  young  people  could  have  our  spare  room  imtil  I 
could  build  them  a  log  shack." 

"Father,  that's  a  capital  idea.  So  there's  no  occasion  for 
any  delay  whatever.  Then,  when  their  house  is  finished,  we 
could  spare  them  a  bed,  a  table,  a  couple  of  chairs,  and  give 
them  a  new  cooking  stove." 

Athabasca  blushed  deeper  than  ever,  and  studied  her  plate 
all  the  harder,  and  I  began  to  show  interest  and  prick  up  my 
ears,  for  I  wondered  who  on  earth  son-in-law  could  be.^^  I 
knew  perfectly  well  there  was  no  young  white  man  in  all  that 
region,  and  that  even  if  he  Hved  in  the  nearest  frontier  town,  it 
would  take  him,  either  by  canoe  or  on  snowshoes,  at  least  two 


30  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

weeks  to  make  the  round  trip  to  Spearhead,  just  to  call  on  her. 
I  couldn't  fathom  it  at  all. 

"Besides,  Mother,  we  might  give  them  the  heifer,  as  a 
starter,  for  she  will  be  ready  to  milk  in  the  spring.  Then,  too, 
we  might  give  them  a  few  ducks  and  geese  and  perhaps  a  pig." 

"Excellent  idea.  Father;  besides,  I  think  I  could  spare  enough 
cutlery,  dishes,  and  cooking  utensils  to  help  out  for  a  while." 

"And  I  could  lend  them  some  blankets  from  the  store," 
the  trader  returned. 

But  at  that  moment  Athabasca  miscalculated  the  distance 
to  her  mouth  and  dropped  a  bit  of  potato  on  the  floor,  and  when 
she  stooped  to  recover  it,  I  caught  a  glance  from  the  comer 
of  her  eye.  It  was  one  of  those  indescribable  glances  that 
girls  give.  I  remember  it  made  me  perspire  all  over.  Queer, 
isn't  it,  the  way  women  sometimes  affect  one?  I  would  have 
blushed  more  deeply,  but  by  that  time  there  was  no  possible 
chance  of  my  face  becoming  any  redder,  notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  I  was  a  red-head.  Ponder  as  I  would,  I  couldn't 
fathom  the  mystery  .  .  .  who  Son-in-law  could  be  .  .  • 
though  I  had  already  begun  to  think  him  a  lucky  fellow — quite 
one  to  be  envied. 

Then  Mrs.  Spear  exclaimed,  as  we  rose  from  the  table: 

"Good!  .  .  .  Then  that's  settled  .  .  .  you'll  take 
him  into  partnership,  and  I'm  glad,  for  I  hke  him,  and  I  think 
he'll  make  an  excellent  trader." 

Our  getting  away  from  the  table  rather  reheved  me,  as  I 
was  dripping  perspiration,  and  I  wanted  to  fairly  mop  my  face — 
of  course,  when  they  weren't  looking. 

Together  they  showed  me  over  the  estabhshment :  the  spare 
bedroom,  the  trading  shop,  the  stable,  the  heifer,  the  ducks  and 
geese,  and  even  the  pig — though  it  puzzled  me  why  they  singled 
out  the  very  one  they  intended  giving  Son-in-law.  The  silent 
though  beautiful  Athabasca  followed  a  few  feet  behind  as 
we  went  the  rounds,  and  inspected  the  wealth  that  was  to  be 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  31 

bestowed  upon  her  lover.  I  was  growing  more  inquisitive 
than  ever  as  to  who  Son-in-law  might  be.  Indeed,  I  felt  like 
asking,  but  was  really  too  shy,  and  besides,  when  I  thought  it 
over,  I  concluded  it  was  none  of  my  business. 

When  the  time  came  for  me  to  return  to  the  Hudson's  Ray 
Post,  I  shook  hands  with  them  all — ^Athabasca  had  nice  hands 
and  a  good  grip,  too.  Her  parents  gave  me  a  pressing  invita- 
tion to  visit  them  again  for  a  few  days  at  New  Year's,  when 
everyone  in  the  country  would  be  going  to  the  great  winter 
festival  that  was  always  held  at  Fort  Consolation.  As  I 
paddled  away  I  mused: 

"Ry  George,  Son-in-law  is  certainly  a  lucky  dog,  for  Atha- 
basca's a  peach  .  .  .  but  I  don't  see  how  in  thunder  her 
lover  ever  gets  a  chance  to  call." 

LEAVING  FORT  CONSOLATION 

I  was  up  early  next  morning  and  as  I  wished  to  see  how 
Oo-koo-hoo  and  his  party  would  pack  up  and  board  their 
canoes,  I  walked  round  the  bay  to  the  Indian  village.  After  a 
hasty  breakfast,  the  women  pulled  down  the  lodge  coverings  of 
sheets  of  birch  bark  and  roUing  them  up  placed  them  upon  the 
star-chi-gan — the  stage — along  with  other  things  which  they 
intended  leaving  behind.  The  lodge  poles  were  left  standing  in 
readiness  for  their  return  next  simMuer,  and  it  wasn't  long  be- 
fore all  their  worldly  goods — save  their  skin  tepees  and  most  of 
their  traps,  which  had  been  left  on  their  last  winter's  hunting 
grounds — ^were  placed  aboard  their  three  canoes,  and  o£F  they 
paddled  to  the  Post,  to  say  good-bye,  while  Amik  seciured  his 
advances. 

Just  think  of  it,  all  you  housekeepers — ^no  gold  plate  or  silver- 
ware to  send  to  the  vault,  no  bric-a-brac  to  pack,  no  furniture  to 
cover,  no  bedding  to  put  away,  no  rugs  or  furs  or  clothes  to  send 
to  cold  storage,  no  servants  to  wrangle  with  or  discharge, 


32  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

no  plumbers  to  swear  over,  no  janitors  to  cuss  at,  no,  not  even 
any  housecleaning  to  do  before  you  depart — ^just  move  and 
nothing  more.  Just  dump  a  little  outfit  into  a  canoe  and  then 
paddle  away  from  all  your  tiresome  environment,  and  travel 
wherever  your  heart  dictates,  and  then  settle  down  where  not 
even  an  exasperating  neighbom*  could  find  you.  What  would 
you  give  to  live  such  a  peaceful  Ufe? 

"As  I  understand  it,"  says  Thoreau,  "that  was  a  vaHd  ob- 
jection urged  by  Momus  against  the  house  which  Minerva 
made,  that  she  had  not  made  it  movable,  by  which  means  a  bad 
neighbourhood  might  be  avoided;  and  it  may  still  be  urged,  for 
our  houses  are  such  unwieldy  property  that  we  are  often 
imprisoned  rather  than  housed  in  them;  and  the  bad  neighbour- 
hood to  be  avoided  is  our  own  scurvy  selves." 

On  their  arrival,  Amik  at  once  set  about  getting  his  ad- 
vances. He  was  a  stalwart,  athletic-looking  man  of  about 
thirty-five,  but  not  the  equal  of  his  father-in-law  in  character. 
Oo-koo-hoo  now  told  the  Factor  just  where  he  intended  to 
hunt,  what  fur  he  expected  to  get,  and  how  the  fur  runners 
could  best  find  his  camp.  As  the  price  of  fur  had  risen,  the 
Factor  told  him  what  price  he  expected  to  pay.  If,  however, 
the  price  had  dropped,  the  Factor  would  not  have  informed  the 
hunter  untU  his  return  next  year.  During  the  course  of  the 
conversation,  the  old  himter  begged  the  loan  of  a  second-hand 
gun  and  some  traps  for  the  use  of  his  grandsons;  and  the 
Factor  granted  his  request. 

In  the  meantime,  the  women  called  upon  the  clergyman  and 
the  priest  and  the  nuns  to  wish  them  farewell,  and  incidentally 
to  do  a  little  more  begging.  As  they  were  not  ready  to  go  by 
noon,  the  Factor's  wife  spread  a  cloth  upon  the  kitchen  floor, 
and  placed  upon  it  some  food  for  the  party.  After  lunch 
they  actually  made  ready  to  depart,  and  everybody  came  down 
to  the  landing  to  see  us  off.  As  the  children  and  dogs  scrambled 
aboard  the  canoes,  the  older  woman  remembered  that  she  had 


ROMANCE  AND  ADVENTURE  33 

not  been  paid  for  her  gift  of  moccasins,  and  so  another  delay 
took  place  while  the  Factor  selected  a  suitable  present.  It  is 
always  thus.  Then,  at  last,  the  canoes  push  off.  Amid  the 
waving  of  hands,  the  shouting  of  farewells,  and  the  shedding  of  a 
few  tears  even,  the  simple  natives  of  the  wilderness  paddled 
away  over  the  silent  lake  en  route  for  their  distant  hunting 
grounds. 

Thither  the  reader  must  follow,  and  there,  amid  the  fastnesses 
of  the  Great  Northern  Forest,  he  must  spend  the  winter  if  he 
would  see  the  Indian  at  his  best.  There  he  is  a  beggar  no 
longer.  There,  escaped  from  the  civilization  which  the  white 
man  is  ever  forcing  upon  the  red — a  civilization  which  rarely 
fails  to  make  a  degenerate  of  him — ^he  proves  his  manhood. 
There,  contrary  to  the  popular  idea,  he  wiU  be  found  to  be  a 
diligent  and  skilful  worker  and  an  affectionate  husband  and 
father.  There,  given  health  and  game,  no  toil  and  no  hardship 
will  hinder  him  from  procuring  fur  enough  to  pay  off  his  in- 
debtedness, and  to  lay  up  in  store  twice  as  much  again  with 
which  to  engage  next  spring  in  the  dehghtful  battle  of  wits  be- 
tween white  man  and  red  in  the  Great  Company's  trading 
room. 


II 

IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE 

THE  PERFECT  FOOL 

It  was  an  ideal  day  and  the  season  and  the  country  were  in 
keeping.  Soon  the  trading  posts  faded  from  view,  and  when, 
after  trolling  around  Fishing  Point,  we  entered  White  River 
and  went  ashore  for  an  early  supper,  everyone  was  smiling. 
I  revelled  over  the  prospect  of  work,  freedom,  contentment, 
and  beauty  before  me;  and  over  the  thought  of  leaving  behind 
me  the  last  vestige  of  the  white  man's  ugly,  hypercritical,  and 
oppressive  civihzation. 

Was  it  any  wonder  I  was  happy?  For  me  it  was  but  the  be- 
ginning of  a  never-to-be-forgotten  journey  in  a  land  where  a 
man  can  be  a  man  without  the  aid  of  money.  Yes  .  .  . 
without  money.  And  that  reminds  me  of  a  white  man  I  knew 
who  was  born  and  bred  in  the  Great  Northern  Forest,  and  who 
supported  and  educated  a  family  of  twelve,  and  yet  he  reached 
his  sixtieth  birthday  without  once  having  handled  or  ever  hav- 
ing seen  money.  He  was  as  generous,  as  refined,  and  as  noble 
a  man  as  one  would  desire  to  know;  yet  when  he  visited  civih- 
zation for  the  first  time — in  his  sixty-first  year — ^he  was  reviled 
because  he  had  a  smile  for  all,  he  was  swindled  because  he  knew 
no  guile,  he  was  robbed  because  he  trusted  everyone,  and  he  was 
arrested  because  he  manifested  brotherly  love  toward  his  fellow- 
creatures.  Our  vaunted  civihzation!  It  was  the  regret  of  his 
decHning  years  that  circumstances  prevented  him  from  leaving 
the  enhghtened  Christians  of  the  cities,  and  going  back  to  live  in 
peace  among  the  honest,  kindly  hearted  barbarians  of  the  forest. 

34 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  35 

Soon  there  were  salmon-trout — fried  to  a  golden  brown — 
crisp  bannock,  and  tea  for  all;  then  a  little  re-adjusting  of  the 
packs,  and  we  were  again  at  the  paddles.  Oo-koo-hoo's  wife, 
Ojistoh,  along  with  her  second  granddaughter  and  her  two 
grandsons,  occupied  one  of  the  three-and-a-haK  fathom  canoes; 
Amik,  and  his  wife,  Naudin,  with  her  baby  and  eldest  daughter, 
occupied  the  other;  and  Oo-koo-hoo  and  I  paddled  together  in 
the  two-and-a-half  fathom  canoe.  One  of  the  five  dogs — 
Oo-koo-hoo's  best  hunter — travelled  with  us,  while  the  other 
four  took  passage  in  the  other  canoes.  Although  the  going  was 
now  up  stream — the  same  river  by  which  I  had  come — ^we 
made  fair  speed  until  Island  Lake  stretched  before  us,  when  we 
felt  a  southwest  wind  that  threatened  trouble;  but  by  making 
a  long  detour  about  the  bays  of  the  southwestern  shore  the 
danger  vanished.  Arriving  at  the  foot  of  the  portage  trail  at 
Bear  Rock  Rapids,  we  carried  our  outfit  to  a  cliff  above,  which 
afforded  an  excellent  camping  ground;  and  there  arose  the 
smoke  of  our  evening  fire.  The  cloudless  sky  giving  no  sign  of 
rain,  we  contented  ourselves  with  laying  mattresses  of  balsam 
brush  upon  which  to  sleep.  While  the  sunset  glow  still  filled 
the  western  sky,  we  heard  a  man's  voice  shouting  above  the 
roar  of  the  rapids,  and  on  going  to  the  brink,  saw  a  "York 
boat"  in  the  act  of  shooting  the  cataract.  It  was  one  of  the 
boats  of  "The  Goods  Brigade"  transporting  supphes  for  the 
northern  posts  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company.  As  the  craft 
measured  forty  feet  in  length  and  was  manned  by  eight  men, 
it  was  capable  of  carrying  about  seventy  packs,  each  weighing 
about  a  hundred  pounds.  But  of  these  boat  brigades — ^more 
in  due  season. 

After  supper,  when  twilight  was  deepening,  and  tobacco — in 
the  smoking  of  which  the  women  conscientiously  joined — ^was 
freely  forthcoming,  the  subject  of  conversation  turned  to  wood- 
craft. Since  it  fell  to  Oo-koo-hoo,  as  the  principal  hunter,  to 
keep  the  party  supplied  with  game  while  en  route,  I  was  won- 


36  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

dering  what  he  would  do  in  case  he  saw  a  bear  and  went  ashore 
to  trail  it.  Would  he  himself  skin  and  cut  up  the  bear,  or  would 
he  want  the  women  to  help  him?  If  the  latter,  what  sign  or 
signal  would  he  use  so  that  they  might  keep  in  touch  with  him? 
But  when  I  questioned  Oo-koo-hoo,  he  rephed : 

"  My  white  son" — ^for  that  is  what  he  sometimes  called  me — 
"  I  see  you  are  just  like  all  white  men,  but  if  you  are  observant 
and  hsten  to  those  who  are  wiser  than  you,  you  may  some  day 
rank  almost  the  equal  of  an  Indian." 

Afterward,  when  I  became  better  acquainted  with  him,  I 
learned  that  with  regard  to  white  men  in  general,  he  held  the 
same  opinion  that  aU  Indians  do,  and  that  is,  that  they  are  per- 
fect fools.  When  I  agreed  with  the  old  gentleman,  and  assured 
him  he  was  absolutely  right,  and  that  the  biggest  fool  I  ever 
knew  was  the  one  who  was  talking  to  him,  he  laughed  outright, 
and  replied  that  now  he  knew  that  I  was  quite  different  from 
most  white  men,  and  that  he  beUeved  some  day  I  would  be  the 
equal  of  an  Indian.  When  I  first  heard  his  opinion  of  white 
men,  I  regarded  him  as  a  pretty  sane  man,  but  afterward,  when 
I  tried  to  get  him  to  include  not  only  his  brother  Indians,  but 
also  himself  under  the  same  definition,  I  could  not  get  him  to 
agree  with  me,  therefore  I  was  disappointed  in  him.  He  was 
not  the  philosopher  I  had  at  first  taken  him  to  be;  for  fife  has 
taught  me  that  all  men  are  fools — of  one  kind  or  another. 

OO-KOO-HOO'S   WOODCRAFT 

But  to  return  to  woodcraft.  Emerson  says:  "Men  are 
naturally  hunters  and  inquisitive  of  woodcraft,  and  I  suppose 
that  such  a  gazetteer  as  wood-cutters  and  Indians  should  fur- 
nish facts  for  would  take  place  in  the  most  sumptuous  drawing 
rooms  of  all  the  *  Wreaths'  and  'Flora's  Chaplets'  of  the  book- 
shops" and  beheving  that  to  be  true,  I  shall  therefore  tell  you 
not  only  how  my  Indian  friends  managed  to  keep  their  bearings 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  37 

while  travelling  without  a  compass,  but  how,  without  the  aid  of 
writing,  they  continued  to  leave  various  messages  for  their 
companions.  When  I  asked  Oo-koo-hoo  how  he  would  signal, 
in  case  he  went  ashore  to  trail  game — when  the  other  canoes 
were  out  of  sight  behind  him — and  he  should  want  someone  to 
follow  him  to  help-carry  back  the  meat,  he  rephed  that  he  would 
cut  a  small  bushy-topped  sapling  and  plant  it  upright  in  the 
river  near  his  landing  place  on  the  shore.  That,  he  said,  would 
signify  that  he  wished  his  party  to  go  ashore  and  camp  on  the 
first  good  camping  ground;  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  would 
warn  them  not  to  kindle  a  fire  until  they  had  first  examined  the 
tracks  to  make  sure  whether  the  smoke  would  frighten  the 
game.  Then  someone  would  follow  his  trail  to  render  him 
assistance,  providing  they  saw  that  he  had  blazed  a  tree.  If 
he  did  not  want  them  to  follow  him,  he  would  shove  two  sticks 
into  the  ground  so  that  they  would  slant  across  the  trail  in  the 
fonn  of  an  X,  but  if  he  wanted  them  to  follow  he  would  blaze 
a  tree.  If  he  wanted  them  to  hurry,  he  would  blaze  the  same 
tree  twice.  If  he  wanted  them  to  follow  as  fast  as  they  could 
with  caution,  he  would  blaze  the  same  tree  three  times,  but  if 
he  desired  them  to  abandon  all  caution  and  to  follow  with  all 
speed,  he  would  cut  a  long  blaze  and  tear  it  off. 

Then,  again,  if  he  were  leaving  the  game  trail  to  circle  his 
quarry,  and  if  he  wished  them  to  follow  his  tracks  instead  of 
those  of  the  game,  he  would  cut  a  long  blaze  on  one  tree  and  a 
small  one  on  another  tree,  which  would  signify  that  he  had 
left  the  game  trail  at  a  point  between  the  two  trees  and  that 
they  were  to  follow  his  tracks  instead  of  those  of  the  game. 
But  if  he  wished  them  to  stop  and  come  no  farther,  he  would 
drop  some  article  of  his  clothing  on  the  trail.  Should,  however, 
the  game  trail  happen  to  cross  a  muskeg  where  there  were  no 
trees  to  blaze,  he  would  place  moss  upon  the  bushes  to  answer 
instead  of  blazes,  and  in  case  the  ground  was  hard  and  left  an 
invisible  trail,  he  would  cut  a  stick  and  shoving  the  small  end 


38  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

into  the  trail,  would  slant  the  butt  in  the  direction  he  had 
gone. 

If  traversing  water  where  there  were  no  saphngs  at  hand,  and 
he  wished  to  let  his  followers  know  where  he  had  left  the  water 
to  cross  a  muskeg,  he  would  try  to  secure  a  pole,  which  he  would 
leave  standing  in  the  water,  with  grass  protruding  from  the 
spHt  upper  end,  and  the  pole  slanting  to  show  in  which  direc- 
tion he  had  gone.  If,  on  the  arrival  at  the  fork  of  a  river,  he 
wished  to  let  his  followers  know  up  which  fork  he  had  paddled — 
say,  for  instance,  if  it  were  the  right  one — ^he  would  shove  a 
long  stick  into  either  bank  of  the  left  fork  in  such  a  way  that  it 
would  point  straight  across  the  channel  of  the  left  fork,  to 
signify,  as  it  were,  that  the  channel  was  blocked.  Then,  a 
Uttle  farther  up  the  right  fork,  he  would  plant  a  sapling  or  pole 
in  the  water,  slanting  in  the  direction  he  had  gone — to  prove  to 
the  follower  that  he  was  now  on  the  right  trail.  Oo-koo-hoo 
further  explained  that  if  he  were  about  to  cross  a  lake  and  he 
wished  to  let  his  follower  know  the  exact  point  upon  which  he 
intended  to  land,  he  would  cut  two  poles,  placing  the  larger 
nearest  the  woods  and  the  smaller  nearest  the  water,  both  in 
an  upright  position  and  in  an  exact  line  with  the  point  to  which 
he  was  going  to  head,  so  that  the  follower  by  taking  sight  from 
one  pole  to  the  other  would  learn  the  exact  spot  on  the  other 
shore  where  he  should  land — even  though  it  were  several  miles 
away.  But  if  he  were  not  sure  just  where  he  intended  to  land, 
he  would  cut  a  willow  branch  and  twist  it  into  the  form  of  a 
hoop  and  hang  it  upon  the  smaller  pole — that  would  signify 
that  he  might  land  at  any  point  of  the  surrounding  shore  of 
the  lake. 

If  he  wanted  to  signal  his  family  to  camp  at  any  particular 
point  along  his  trail,  he  would  leave  some  article  of  his  clothing 
and  place  near  it  a  number  of  sticks  standing  in  the  form  of  the 
poles  of  a  lodge,  thus  suggesting  to  them  that  they  should  erect 
their  tepee  upon  that  spot.    If  he  had  woimded  big  game  and 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  39 

expected  soon  to  overtake  and  kill  it,  and  if  he  wanted  help  to 
carry  back  the  meat,  he  would  blaze  a  tree  and  upon  that 
smooth  surface  would  make  a  sketch,  either  with  knife  or  char- 
coal, of  the  animal  he  was  pursuing.  If  a  full  day  had  elapsed 
since  the  placing  of  crossed  sticks  over  the  trail,  the  follower 
would  abandon  all  caution  and  follow  at  top  speed,  as  he  would 
realize  that  some  misfortune  had  befallen  the  hunter.  The 
second  man,  or  follower,  however,  never  blazes  trees  as  he 
trails  the  first  hunter,  but  simply  breaks  off  twigs  or  bends 
branches  in  the  direction  in  which  he  is  going,  so  that  should  it 
be  necessary  that  a  third  man  should  also  follow,  he  could 
readily  distinguish  the  difference  between  the  two  trails.  If  a 
hunter  wishes  to  leave  a  good  trail  over  a  treeless  district,  he,  as 
far  as  possible,  chooses  soft  ground  and  treads  upon  his 
heels. 

When  a  hunter  is  trailing  an  animal,  he  avoids  stepping 
upon  the  animal's  trail,  so  that  should  it  be  necessary  for  him 
to  go  back  and  re-trail  his  quarry,  the  animal's  tracks  shall  not 
be  obhterated.  If,  in  circling  about  his  quarry,  the  hunter 
should  happen  to  cut  his  own  trail,  he  takes  great  care  to  cut  it 
at  right  angles,  so  that,  should  he  have  to  circle  several  times, 
he  may  never  be  at  a  loss  to  know  which  was  his  original  trail. 
If  the  hunter  should  wish  to  leave  a  danger  signal  behind  him, 
he  will  take  two  sapHngs,  one  from  either  side  of  the  trail,  and 
twist  them  together  in  such  a  way  that  they  shall  block  the 
passage  of  the  follower,  requiring  him  to  pause  in  order  to  dis- 
entangle them  or  to  pass  around  them;  and  if  the  hunter  were 
to  repeat  such  a  signal  two  or  three  times,  it  would  signify  that 
the  follower  should  use  great  caution  and  circle  down  wind  in 
order  to  still-hunt  the  hunter's  trail  in  exactly  the  same  way 
he  would  still-hunt  a  moose.  Then,  again,  if  the  hunter  should 
wish  to  let  the  follower  know  the  exact  time  of  day  he  had 
passed  a  certain  spot,  he  would  draw  on  the  earth  or  snow  a 
bow  with  an  arrow  placed  at  right  angles  to  the  bow,  but  point- 


40  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

ing  straight  in  the  direction  where  the  sun  had  been  at  that 
precise  moment. 

THE   bear's   deduction 

Owing  to  their  knowledge  of  wood-craft  some  Indians  are 
very  clever  at  deduction. 

On  Great  Slave  Lake  near  Fort  Rae  an  Indian  cripple, 
named  Simpson's  Brother,  had  joined  a  party  of  canoe-men  for 
the  purpose  of  hunting  eggs.  After  paddhng  toward  a  group  of 
islands,  the  party  separated,  finally  landing  on  different  isles. 
They  had  agreed,  however,  to  meet  at  sunset  on  a  certain 
island  and  there  eat  and  sleep  together.  While  at  work  sev- 
eral of  the  Indians  saw  Simpson's  Brother  alone  on  a  Uttle 
rocky  islet,  busily  engaged  in  gathering  eggs.  Toward  even- 
ing, the  party  met  at  their  rendezvous  and  took  supper  to- 
gether, but  strange  to  say,  Simpson's  Brother  did  not  appear. 
After  smoking  and  talking  for  a  while,  some  grew  anxious  about 
the  cripple.  The  Bear  began  to  fear  lest  some  mishap  had 
befallen  him;  but  The  Caribou  scoffed  at  the  idea:  he  was  sure 
that  Simpson's  Brother  was  still  working  and  that  he  would 
soon  return  with  more  eggs  than  any  of  them.  The  Bear,  how- 
ever, thought  they  ought  to  search  for  him,  as  his  canoe  might 
have  drifted  away.  But  The  Mink  replied  that  if  anything 
hke  that  had  happened,  the  cripple  would  certainly  have  fired 
his  gun.  "But  how  could  he  fire  his  gun  if  his  canoe  had  drifted 
away?"  asked  The  Bear,  "for  would  not  his  gun  be  in  his 
canoe?"  So  they  all  paddled  off  to  investigate  the  mystery. 
On  nearing  the  island,  they  saw  the  Brother's  canoe  adrift. 
When  they  overhauled  it,  sure  enough  his  gun  was  aboard. 
They  then  landed  on  the  little  isle  where  the  cripple  had  been 
at  work  and  began  calling  aloud  for  him.  As  they  received  no 
answer,  some  of  the  Indians  claimed  that  he  must  be  asleep. 
The  Bear  rephed  that  if  he  was  asleep  their  shouting  would 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  41 

have  awakened  him  and  he  would  have  answered,  but  that  now 
they  had  best  search  the  island. 

So  they  divided  into  two  parties  and  searched  the  shore  in 
different  directions  until  they  finally  met  on  the  other  side, 
then  they  scattered  and  examined  every  nook  and  comer  of  the 
place — but  all  in  vain.  Some  now  contended  that  the  others 
were  mistaken,  and  that  that  could  not  be  the  island  on  which 
the  Brother  had  been  working;  but  The  Bear — though  he  had 
not  seen  the  cripple  there — insisted  that  it  was.  They  asked 
him  to  prove  it. 

"The  wind  has  been  blowing  steadily  from  the  north," 
rephed  The  Bear,  "the  other  islands  are  all  south  of  this  one, 
and  you  know  that  we  found  his  canoe  adrift  south  of  here 
and  north  of  all  the  other  islands.  That  is  sufficient  proof." 
Then  he  added:  "The  reason  Simpson's  Brother  did  not 
answer  is  because  he  is  not  on  the  island,  but  in  the  water." 

Again  they  all  clam.oured  for  proof  and  The  Bear  answered: 
"  But  first  I  must  find  where  he  landed,  and  the  quickest  way  to 
find  that  place  is  to  remember  that  the  wind  was  blowing  too 
strong  for  him  to  land  on  the  north  shore,  and  that  the  running 
swells  were  too  strong  for  him  to  land  on  either  the  east  or  west 
sides,  therefore  he  landed  on  the  south  side — the  sheltered  side. 
Now  let  us  go  and  see  where  he  drew  up  his  canoe." 

But  one  of  the  others  argued  that  that  would  be  impossible 
as  Simpson's  Brother  was  not  such  a  fool  as  to  act  like  a  white 
man  and  drag  his  canoe  over  the  rocks.  The  Bear,  however, 
persisted  that  there  would  be  some  sign,  at  least  where  the  bow 
touched  shore  when  the  cripple  got  out,  and  that  he.  The  Bear, 
would  go  and  find  it.  But  first  he  would  go  and  examine  the 
nests  to  learn  from  which  of  them  the  cripple  had  removed  the 
eggs.  Thus  they  would  learn  where  he  had  been  working;  and 
the  finding  of  the  landing  place  would  be  made  easier.  So  The 
Bear  set  to  work.  From  the  empty  nests  he  soon  learned 
where  the  cripple  had  been  working,  and  after  a  careful  search 


42  THE  DRA.MA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

lie  presently  found  on  a  big  rock  a  little  white  spot  no  larger 
than  a  man's  finger  nail. 

"There,  my  friends,  is  where  Simpson's  Brother  landed,  for 
that  white  mark  is  of  gum  and  proves  where  the  bow  of  the 
canoe  bumped  the  rock." 

They  then  asked  The  Bear  where  he  thought  the  cripple  was, 
and  pointing,  he  repUed: 

"If  we  search  long  enough  we  shaU  find  him  in  the  deep 
water  down  there;  for  when  Simpson's  Brother  was  getting 
aboard  his  canoe,  he  sHpped  and  in  faUing  struck  his  head  upon 
the  rock;  the  blow  stunned  him,  and  without  a  struggle  he  slid 
into  the  water,  and  was  drowned." 

When  they  had  brought  their  canoes  round  and  had  peered 
into  the  deep  water,  true  enough,  they  discovered  the  body  on 
the  bottom  of  the  lake.  Seciu*ing  a  long  pole,  they  fastened  a 
gun  worm  to  one  end  and,  reaching  down,  twisted  it  into  the 
cripple's  clothing  and  brought  the  body  to  the  surface.  Sadly 
they  placed  it  in  the  unfortunate  man's  canoe,  towed  the  craft 
and  its  bm"den  to  the  other  island,  and  sent  to  Fort  Rae  for  the 
priest.  Father  Roure,  to  come  and  perform  the  burial  service. 

BEASTS  WITH  HUMAN  SOULS 

Next  morning  we  arose  with  dawn.  After  a  hearty  break- 
fast of  fish — taken  from  the  gill-net  that  had  been  set  over- 
night below  the  rapid — the  work  of  portaging  round  the  rapids 
was  begim  and  by  about  ten  o'clock  was  finished.  Noon  over- 
took us  near  the  mouth  of  Caribou  River,  up  which  we  were  to 
ascend  on  the  first  half  of  our  journey  to  Oo-koo-hoo's  hunting 
grounds.  About  two  o'clock  we  entered  that  stream  and 
headed  westerly  toward  a  spur  of  mountains  that  lay  about  a 
week's  travel  away  and  through  which  we  had  to  pass  to  gain 
our  winter  camping  ground.  An  hour  later,  as  Oo-koo-hoo  and 
I  preceded  the  party,  paddling  up  one  of  the  channels  caused 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  43 

by  a  number  of  large  islands  dividing  the  river  into  mere 
creeks,  we  chanced  upon  a  woodland  caribou  bull,  as  it  stood 
among  the  rushes  in  a  marshy  bend  watching  us  from  a  distance 
of  not  more  than  forty  yards.  As  I  crouched  down  to  be  out  of 
the  hunter's  way,  I  heard  him  say: 

"  I'm  sorry,  my  brother,  but  we  need  you  for  both  food  and 
clothing,  so  turn  your  eyes  away  before  I  fire."  The  next 
moment  the  woods  echoed  the  report  of  his  smooth-bore  muzzle- 
loader — the  kind  of  gun  used  by  about  90  per  cent,  of  the 
fur  hunters  of  the  forest.  Why.^  Because  of  the  simphcity  of 
its  ammunition.  Such  a  gun  never  requires  a  variety  of  cum- 
bersome shells  for  different  kinds  of  game,  but  with  varying 
charges  of  powder  and  shot  or  ball,  is  ready  for  anything  from  a 
rat  or  duck  to  a  bear  or  moose. 

Before  bleeding  the  deer,  Oo-koo-hoo  did  a  curious  thing: 
with  his  sharp  knife  he  destroyed  the  deer's  eyes.  When  I 
questioned  him  as  tahis  purpose  he  replied:  "As  long  as  the 
eyes  remain  perfect,  the  spirit  remains  within  the  head,  and 
I  could  not  bear  to  skin  the  deer  with  its  spirit  looking  at  me." 
Though  Oo-koo-hoo  was  in  many  ways  a  wise  old  man,  he  held 
some  beliefs  that  were  past  my  understanding,  and  others  that, 
when  I  tried  to  analyze  them,  seemed  to  be  founded  on  the 
working  of  a  sensitive  conscience. 

Hearing  the  report  of  the  gun,  the  others  hurried  to  the 
scene.  While  the  deer  was  being  bled  the  old  grandmother 
caught  the  blood  in  a  pail — into  which  she  threw  a  pinch  of  salt 
to  clot  the  blood — as  she  wished  to  use  it  for  the  making  of  a 
blood  pudding.  Then  the  carcass  was  loaded  aboard  Oo-koo- 
hoo's  canoe,  rather,  indeed,  overloading  it.  Accordingly,  I 
accepted  Amik's  invitation  to  board  his  craft,  and  at  the  first 
good  place  we  all  went  ashore  to  clear  the  ground  for  the 
night's  camp.  There  was  a  porcupine  there,  and  though  it 
moved  but  slowly  away,  my  friends  did  not  kill  it,  for  they  had 
plenty  to  eat,  and  did  not  want  to  be  bothered  with  taking  care 


44  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

of  those  dangerous  little  quills  that  the  women  dye  and  use  to 
such  good  advantage  in  their  fancy  work.  As  to  the  Indian 
method  of  dressing  meat  and  skins — more  anon,  when  we  are 
finally  settled  upon  the  fur  trail. 

That  evening,  while  flames  were  leaping  after  ascending 
sparks,  and  shadows  were  dancing  behind  us  among  the  trees, 
we  lounged  about  the  fire  on  packs  and  blankets  and  discussed 
the  events  of  the  day.  When  I  asked  Oo-koo-hoo  why  he  had 
addressed  the  deer  in  such  a  manner,  he  replied  that  it  was  the 
proper  and  regular  way  to  speak  to  an  animal,  because  every 
creature  in  the  forest,  whether  beast,  bird,  or  fish,  contained 
the  spirit  of  some  former  human  being.  He  further  explained 
that  whenever  the  men  of  the  olden  time  killed  an  unusually 
large  animal  with  an  extra  fine  coat,  they  did  not  save  the  skin 
to  sell  to  the  trader,  but  burnt  the  carcass,  pelt  and  all,  and  in 
that  way  they  returned  the  body  to  the  spirit  again.  Thus 
they  not  only  paid  homage  to  the  spirit,  but  proved  them- 
selves unselfish  men.  He  went  on  to  say  that  from  the  time 
of  the  Great,  Great  Long  Ago,  the  Indian  had  always  beheved — 
as  he  did  to-day — that  every  bull  moose  contained  the 
spirit  of  a  famous  Indian  chief,  that  every  caribou  bull  con- 
tained the  spirit  of  a  lesser  chief,  and  so  on  down  through  the 
whole  of  the  animal  creation.  Rears,  however,  or  rather  the 
spirits  animating  them,  possessed  the  greatest  power  to  render 
good  or  evil,  and  for  that  reason  the  hunter  usually  took  the 
greatest  care  to  address  Rruin  properly  before  he  slew  him. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  the  Indians  still  retain  such  ideas  when, 
as  Lord  Avebmy  says:  "We  do  not  now,  most  of  us,  believe 
that  animals  have  souls,  and  yet  probably  the  majority  of 
mankind  from  Ruddha  to  Wesley  and  Kingsley  have  done  so." 

Another  thing  Oo-koo-hoo  told  me  was  that  out  of  respect 
to  the  dignified  spirit  possessed  by  the  bull  moose,  women  were 
never  allowed  to  eat  of  the  head,  nor  was  a  moose  head  to  be 
placed  upon  a  sled  upon  which  a  woman  had  ever  sat;  for  if 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  45 

that  were  done,  bad  luck  would  follow  the  hunter  to  the  end 
of  his  days.  He  knew  of  a  hunter  who  on  one  occasion  had 
been  guilty  of  that  irreverence;  afterward,  whenever  that 
hunter  would  see  a  moose,  the  moose — instead  of  trying  to 
escape — ^would  indifferently  bark  at  him,  and  even  follow  him 
back  close  to  camp;  and  when  that  hunter  would  go  out  again, 
other  moose  would  do  the  very  same  thing.  Moreover,  the 
hunter  was  afraid  to  kill  any  moose  that  acted  that  way,  for  he 
well  knew  that  the  animal  was  simply  warning  him  of  some 
great  danger  that  was  surely  going  to  befall  him.  So,  in  the 
end,  the  hunter  fretted  himself  to  death.  Therefore  every 
hunter  should  take  great  care  to  bum  all  the  bones  of  a  moose's 
head  and  never  on  any  account  allow  a  woman  to  eat  thereof 
or  to  feed  it  to  the  dogs.  In  burning  the  head,  the  hunter  was 
merely  paying  the  homage  due  to  so  noble  a  creature. 

Again,  a  hunter  might  find  that  though  he  had  fonnerly 
been  a  good  moose  hunter,  and  had  always  observed  every 
custom,  yet  he  now  utterly  failed  to  secure  a  moose  at  all.  He 
might  come  upon  plenty  of  tracks,  but  the  moose  would  always 
escape,  and  prove  the  efforts  of  an  experienced  moose  hunter 
of  no  more  avail  than  those  of  a  greenhorn.  In  such  a  case, 
there  was  but  one  thing  to  do,  and  that  was  to  secure  the 
whole  skin — head,  legs,  and  all — of  a  fawn,  stuff  it  into  its 
natural  shape,  set  it  up  in  the  woods,  wait  till  the  new  moon 
was  in  the  first  crescent,  and  then,  just  after  sundown,  engage  a 
young  girl  to  shoot  five  arrows  at  it  from  the  regular  hunting 
distance.  If  she  missed,  it  was  proof  that  the  spirit  had 
rejected  the  girl,  and  that  another  would  have  to  be  secured  to 
do  the  shooting.  If  success  were  then  attained,  the  hunter 
might  go  upon  his  hunt,  well  knowing  he  would  soon  be  re- 
warded by  bringing  down  a  moose.  Of  course  such  ideas  seem 
strange  to  us,  but,  after  all,  are  we  in  a  position  to  ridicule  the 
Indians'  belief?  I  think  not,  if  we  but  recall  the  weird  ideas 
our  ancestors  held. 


46  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

The  Indian,  like  the  white  man,  has  many  superstitions, 
some  ugly,  and  some  beautiful,  and  of  the  latter  class,  I  quote 
one:  he  beheves  that  the  spirits  of  still-bom  children  or  very 
young  infants  take  flight,  when  they  die,  and  enter  the  bodies 
of  birds.  A  dehghtful  thought — especially  for  the  mother. 
For  as  Kingsley  says  of  St.  Francis,  "perfectly  sure  that  he 
himself  was  a  spiritual  being,  he  thought  it  at  least  possible  that 
birds  might  be  spiritual  beings  hkewise,  incarnate  hke  himself 
in  mortal  flesh;  and  saw  no  degradation  to  the  dignity  of  human 
nature  in  claiming  kindred  lovingly,  with  creatures  so  beautiful, 
so  wonderful,  who  praised  God  in  the  forest,  even  as  angels  did 
in  heaven." 

The  forest  Indian,  however,  is  not  content  with  merely 
stating  that  the  spirits  of  infants  enter  birds;  but  he  goes  on  to 
say  that  while  the  spirits  of  Indian  children  always  enter  the 
beings  of  the  finest  singers  and  the  most  beautiful  of  all  the 
birds,  the  spirits  of  the  children  of  white  people  enter  the  bodies 
of  stupid,  ugly  birds  that  just  squawk  around,  and  are  neither 
interesting  to  look  at  nor  pleasant  to  hsten  to,  but  are  quarrel- 
some, and  thievish.  When  I  asked  Oo-koo-hoo  to  name  a  few 
birds  into  which  the  spirits  of  white  children  entered,  he  men- 
tioned, among  others,  the  woodpecker — ^which  the  Indians 
consider  to  have,  proportionately,  the  longest  and  sharpest 
tongue  of  all  birds.  That  reminds  me  of  the  reply  I  received 
from  one  of  the  characters  in  this  book,  when  I  wrote  him, 
among  others,  requesting  that  he  grant  me  permission  to  make 
use  of  his  name,  in  order  to  add  authority  to  my  text.  Like 
others,  he  begged  me  to  refrain  from  quoting  his  name,  as  he 
was  afraid  that  the  information  he  had  given  me  might  be  the 
cause  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  stopping  his  pension.  I 
had  suggested  that  he  refer  the  matter  to  his  wife  as  she,  too, 
figures  in  this  story,  and  the  following  is  part  of  his  reply: 
"This  being  an  affair  between  you  and  I — I  have  not  consulted 
my  wife.    For  as  you  know,  the  human  female  tongue  is  very 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  47 

similar  to  that  of  the  female  woodpecker:  tmusually  long,  and 
much  too  pointed  to  be  of  any  use." 

THE  HONESTY  OF  INDIANS 

But  to  return  to  the  Indian's  reproach  of  the  white  man's 
dishonesty;  when  he  states  that  the  spirits  of  white  children 
enter  only  those  birds  that  are  counted  great  thieves,  one  can- 
not wonder  at  it,  for  as  far  as  honesty  is  concerned,  a  comparison 
between  the  forest  Indian  and  the  white  man  brands  the  latter 
as  a  thief.  Not  only  is  that  the  private  opinion  of  all  the  old 
fur  traders  I  have  met,  but  I  could  quote  many  other  authorities; 
let  two,  however,  suffice:  Charles  Mair,  the  author  of  "Te- 
cumseh,"  and  a  member  of  the  Indian  Treaty  Expedition  of 
1899,  says: 

"  The  writer,  and  doubtless  some  of  his  readers,  can  recall  the 
time  when  to  go  to  *  Peace  River'  seemed  almost  like  going  to 
another  sphere,  where,  it  was  conjectured,  life  was  lived  very 
differently  from  that  of  civilized  man.  And,  truly,  it  was  to 
enter  into  an  unfamiliar  state  of  things;  a  region  in  which  a 
primitive  people,  not  without  fault  or  depravities,  Uved  on 
Natmre's  food,  and  throve  on  her  unfailiug  harvest  of  fur.  A 
region  in  which  they  often  left  their  beaver,  silver  fox,  or  marten 
packs — the  envy  of  Fashion — lyiug  by  the  dog-trail,  or  hang- 
ing to  some  sheltering  tree,  because  no  one  stole,  and  took 
their  fellow's  word  without  question,  because  no  one  Hed.  A 
very  simple  folk  indeed,  in  whose  language  profanity  was  un- 
known, and  who  had  no  desire  to  leave  their  congenital  soH- 
tudes  for  any  other  spot  on  earth:  sohtudes  which  so  charmed 
the  educated  minds  who  brought  the  white  man's  rehgion,  or 
traffic,  to  their  doors,  that,  like  the  Lotus-eaters,  they,  too,  felt 
httle  craving  to  depart.  Yet  they  were  not  regions  of  sloth  or 
idleness,  but  of  necessary  toil;  of  the  laborious  chase  and  the 
endless  activities  of  aboriginal  Ufe:  the  regions  of  a  people 


48  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

familiar  with  its  fauna  and  flora — of  skilled  but  unconscious 
naturalists,  who  knew  no  science  .  .  .  But  theft  such  as 
white  men  practice  was  a  puzzle  to  these  people,  amongst  whom 
it  was  imknown." 

Another  example  worth  quoting  is  taken  from  Sir  William 
Butler's  "The  Wild  North  Land": 

"The  *  Moose  That  Walks'  arrived  at  Hudson's  Hope  early 
in  the  spring.  He  was  sorely  in  want  of  gunpowder  and  shot, 
for  it  was  the  season  when  the  beaver  leave  their  winter  houses 
and  when  it  is  easy  to  shoot  them.  So  he  carried  his  thirty 
martens'  skins  to  the  fort,  to  barter  them  for  shot,  powder,  and 
tobacco. 

"There  was  no  person  at  the  Hope.  The  dwelhng-house 
was  closed,  the  store  shut  up,  the  man  in  charge  had  not  yet 
come  up  from  St.  John's;  now  what  was  to  be  done?  Inside 
that  wooden  house  lay  piles  and  piles  of  all  that  the  *  Moose 
that  Walks'  most  needed.  There  was  a  whole  keg  of  powder; 
there  were  bags  of  shot,  and  tobacco — there  was  as  much  as  the 
Moose  could  smoke  in  his  whole  hfe. 

"Through  a  rent  in  the  parchment  window  the  Moose  looked 
at  all  those  wonderful  things,  and  at  the  red  flannel  shirts,  and 
at  the  fom*  flint  guns  and  the  spotted  cotton  handerchiefs, 
each  worth  a  sable  skin  at  one  end  of  the  fur  trade,  haK  a  six- 
pence at  the  other.  There  was  tea,  too — tea,  that  magic 
medicine  before  which  life's  cares  vanished  like  snow  in  spring 
sunshine. 

"The  Moose  sat  down  to  think  about  all  these  things,  but 
thinking  only  made  matters  worse.  He  was  short  of  ammuni- 
tion, therefore  he  had  no  food,  and  to  think  of  food  when  one  is 
very  hungry  is  an  imsatisfactory  business.  It  is  true  that  the 
Moose  that  Walks  had  only  to  walk  in  through  that  parch- 
ment window  and  help  himself  until  he  was  tired.  But  no, 
that  would  not  do. 

"*Ah,'  my  Christian  friend  will  exclaim,  *Ah,  yes,  the  poor 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  49 

Indian  had  known  the  good  missionary,  and  had  leamt  the 
lesson  of  honesty  and  respect  for  his  neighbour's  property.' 

"Yes;  he  had  leamt  the  lesson  of  honesty,  but  his  teacher, 
my  friend,  had  been  other  than  human.  The  good  missionary 
had  never  reached  the  Hope  of  Hudson,  nor  improved  the 
morals  of  the  Moose  That  Walks. 

"  But  let  us  go  on.  After  waiting  two  days  he  determined  to 
set  off  for  St.  John's,  two  full  days'  travel.  He  set  out,  but  his 
heart  failed  him,  and  he  turned  back  again. 

"At  last,  on  the  fourth  day,  he  entered  the  parchment  win- 
dow, leaving  outside  his  conarade,  to  whom  he  jealously  denied 
admittance.  Then  he  took  from  the  cask  of  powder  three 
skins'  worth,  from  the  tobacco  four  skins'  worth,  from  the  shot 
the  same;  and  sticking  the  requisite  number  of  martens'  skins 
in  the  powder  barrel  and  the  shot  bag  and  the  tobacco  case,  he 
hung  up  his  remaining  skins  on  a  nail  to  the  credit  of  his  ac- 
count, and  departed  from  this  El  Dorado,  this  Bank  of  England 
of  the  Red  Man  in  the  wilderness.  And  when  it  was  all  over 
he  went  his  way,  thinking  he  had  done  a  very  reprehensible 
act,  and  one  by  no  means  to  be  proud  of." 

If  it  were  necessary  further  to  establish  the  honesty  of  the* 
forest  Indian,  I  could  add  many  proofs  from  my  own  experience, 
but  one  wiU  suffice: 

Years  ago,  during  my  first  visit  to  the  Hudson's  Bay  Post 
on  Lake  Temagami,  when  the  only  white  man  hving  in  all  that 
beautiful  region  was  old  Malcolm  MacLean,  a  "freeman"  of 
the  H.  B.  Co.,  who  had  married  an  Indian  woman  and  become 
a  trapper,  I  was  invited  to  be  the  guest  of  the  half-breed 
Hudson's  Bay  trader,  Johnnie  Turner,  and  was  given  a  bedroom 
in  his  log  house.  The  window  of  my  room  on  the  ground  floor 
was  always  left  wide  open,  and  in  fact  was  never  once  closed 
during  my  stay  of  a  week  or  more.  Inside  my  room,  a  foot  from 
the  open  window,  a  lidless  cigar  box  was  nailed  to  the  wall,  yet 
it  contained  a  heap  of  bills  of  varying  denominations — ones, 


50  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

fives,  and  tens,  and  even  twenties;  how  much  m  all  I  don't 
know  for  I  never  had  the  curiosity  to  count  them — though,  at 
the  time,  I  guessed  that  there  were  many  hundreds  of  dollars. 
It  was  the  trader's  bank.  Nevertheless,  beside  that  open  win- 
dow was  the  favourite  loimging  place  of  all  the  Indian  trappers 
and  himters  who  visited  the  Post,  and  dm-ing  my  stay  a  group 
of  Indians  that  numbered  from  three  or  four  to  thirty  or  forty 
were  daily  loitering  in  the  shade  within  a  few  feet  of  that  open 
window.  Sometimes,  when  I  was  in  my  room,  they  would 
even  intrude  their  heads  and  shoulders  through  the  window  and 
talk  to  me.  Several  times  I  saw  them  glance  at  the  heap  of 
money,  but  they  no  more  thought  of  touching  it  than  I  did; 
yet  day  or  night  it  could  have  been  taken  with  the  greatest 
ease,  and  the  thief  never  discovered — ^but,  of  coiuse,  there 
wasn't  a  thief  in  all  that  region. 

But  now  that  the  white  man  has  made  Lake  Temagami  a 
fashionable  summer  resort,  and  the  civihzed  Christians  flock 
there  from  New  York,  Toronto,  Pittsburgh,  and  Montreal, 
how  long  would  the  trader's  money  remain  in  an  open  box 
beside  an  open  window  on  a  dark  night? 

TRACKING  UP  RAPIDS 

After  breakfast  next  morning,  while  ascending  Caribou  River, 
we  encoimtered  a  series  of  rapids  that  extended  for  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  mile.  Here  and  there,  in  midstream,  rocks  pro- 
truded above  the  foaming  water,  and  from  their  leeward  ends 
flowed  eddying  currents  of  back  water  that  from  their  dark, 
imdulating  appearance  rather  suggested  that  every  boulder 
possessed  a  tail.  It  was  always  for  those  long,  flowing  tails 
that  the  canoes  were  steered  in  their  slow  upward  struggle 
from  one  rock  to  another;  for  each  tail  formed  a  Httle  harbour 
in  which  the  canoe  could  not  only  make  easier  headway,  but 
also  might  hover  for  a  moment  while  the  paddlers  caught  their 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  51 

breath.  Then  out  again  they  would  creep,  and  once  more  the 
battle  would  rage  and,  workmg  with  might  and  main,  the 
paddlers  would  force  the  canoe  gradually  ahead  and  over  into 
the  eddy  of  another  boulder.  Sometimes  the  water  would 
leap  over  the  gimwales  and  come  aboard  with  a  savage  hiss. 
At  other  times  the  canoes  seemed  to  become  discouraged  and, 
with  their  heads  almost  buried  beneath  the  angry,  spitting 
waves,  would  balk  in  midstream  and  not  move  forward  so 
much  as  a  foot  to  the  minute.  It  was  dangerous  work,  for  if 
at  any  time  a  canoe  became  incUned  across  the  current,  even 
to  the  shghtest  degree,  it  might  be  rolled  over  and  over,  like  a 
barrel  descending  an  iucline.  Dangerous  work  it  was,  but  it 
was  interesting  to  see  how  powerfully  the  Indians  propelled 
their  canoes,  how  skilfully  they  guided  them,  and  how  adroitly 
even  the  Uttle  children  handled  their  paddles.  However,  we 
landed  safely  at  the  head  of  the  rapids,  and  upon  going  ashore 
to  drain  the  canoes,  partook  of  a  refreshing  snack  of  tea  and 
bannock.  Then  to  the  canoes  again.  The  aspect  of  the  river 
was  now  very  beautiful,  beautiful  enough  to  ponder  over  and 
to  dream,  so  we  took  it  easy.  While  pipes  were  gorug  we 
gazed,  in  peace  and  restfulness,  at  the  reflections,  for  they  were 
wonderful. 

After  dinner  we  encountered  another  rapid,  but  though  it 
was  much  shorter  than  the  former,  the  current  ran  too  strong 
to  attempt  the  ascent  with  the  aid  of  only  paddles  or  poles. 
The  northern  tripper  has  the  choice  between  five  methods  of 
circumventing  "white  waters,"  and  his  selection  depends  upon 
the  strength  of  the  current:  first,  paddling;  second,  poHng;  third, 
wading ;  fourth,  tracking ;  and  fifth,  portaging.  You  are  already 
famihar  with  the  method  of  paddling,  and  also  with  that  of 
portaging,  and  a  description  of  poling  will  shortly  follow. 
Wading  is  resorted  to  only  when  the  trippers,  unprovided  with 
poles,  have  been  defeated  in  their  effort  to  ascend  with  no  other 
aid  than  their  paddles.    Then  they  leap  overboard  and  seizing 


52  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

hold  of  the  gunwales  drag  the  craft  up  the  rapids  before  it  can 
be  overcome  by  the  turbulent  water,  and  either  driven  down 
stream  or  capsized.  Again,  when  the  trippers  encounter,  in 
shallow  water,  such  obstacles  as  jammed  timbers,  wading 
allows  them  carefully  to  ease  their  craft  around  or  over  the 
obstruction. 

When  tracking  their  six-fathom  canoes,  or  "York  boats," 
or  "sturgeon  scows,"  the  voyageurs  of  the  north  brigades  use 
very  long  lines,  one  end  of  which  is  attached  to  the  bow  of  the 
craft  while  to  the  other  end  is  secured  a  leather  harness  of 
breast  straps  called  otapanapi  into  which  each  hauler  adjusts 
himself.  Thus,  while  the  majority  of  the  crew  land  upon 
the  shore  and,  so  harnessed,  walk  off  briskly  in  single  file  along 
the  river  bank,  their  mates  aboard  endeavour,  with  the^aid  of 
either  paddles,  sweeps,  or  poles,  to  keep  the  craft  in  a  safe 
channel. 

In  the  present  instance  we  had  to  resort  to  tracking,  but  it 
was  of  a  hght  character,  for  the  canoes  were  not  too  heavily 
loaded,  nor  was  the  current  too  strong  for  us  to  make  fair 
headway  along  the  rough,  pathless  bank  of  the  wild  little  stream. 
In  each  canoe  one  person  remained  aboard  to  hold  the  bow 
off  shore  with  a  paddle  or  pole,  while  the  others  scrambled 
along  the  river  bank,  either  to  help  haul  upon  a  Hne,  or,  in  the 
case  of  the  younger  children  and  the  dogs,  simply  to  walk  in 
order  to  refieve  the  craft  of  their  weight  and  also  for  safety's 
sake,  should  the  canoe  overturn.  The  greatest  danger  is  for  the 
steersman  to  lose  control  and  allow  the  canoe  to  get  out  of  hne 
with  the  current,  as  the  least  headway  in  a  wrong  direction  is 
apt  to  capsize  it. 

With  us  all  went  well  until  a  scream  from  the  children  an- 
noimced  that  Ah-ging-goos,  the  second  son,  had  fallen  in,  and 
anxiety  reigned  until  the  well-drenched  Chipmunk  partly 
crawled  and  was  partly  hauled  ashore;  and  then  laughter 
echoed  in  the  river  valley,  for  The  Chipmunk  was  at  times 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  53 

much  given  to  frisking  about  and  showing  oflf,  and  this  time 
he  got  his  reward. 

But  before  we  had  ascended  half  the  length  of  the  rapids 
we  encountered  the  usual  troubles  that  overtake  the  tracker — 
those  of  clearing  our  lines  of  trees  and  bushes,  slipping  into  the 
muck  of  small  inlets,  stumbling  over  stones,  cutting  the  lines 
upon  sharp  rocks,  or  having  them  caught  by  gnarled  roots  of 
driftwood.  As  we  approached  the  last  lap  of  white  water  the 
canoes  passed  through  a  rocky  basin  that  held  a  thirty-  or  forty- 
yard  section  of  the  river  in  a  slack  and  unruffled  pool.  While 
ascending  this  last  section,  the  last  canoe,  the  one  in  which  the 
old  grandmother  was  wielding  the  paddle,  broke  away  from 
Oo-koo-hoo,  the  strain  severing  his  well-worn  Une,  and  away 
Grandmother  went,  racing  backward  down  through  the  turbu- 
lent foam.  With  her  usual  presence  of  mind  she  exercised  such 
skill  in  guiding  her  canoe  that  it  never  for  a  moment  swerved  out 
of  the  true  line  of  the  current,  and  thus  she  saved  herself  and  all 
her  precious  cargo.  Then,  the  moment  she  struck  slack  water, 
she  in  with  her  paddle,  and  out  with  her  pole,  stood  up  in  her 
unsteady  craft,  bent  her  powerful  old  frame,  and — her  pipe 
still  clenched  between  her  ancient  teeth — with  all  her  might 
and  main  she  actually  poled  her  canoe  right  up  to  the  very 
head  of  the  rapids,  and  came  safely  ashore.  It  was  thrilling 
to  watch  her — for  we  could  render  no  aid — and  when  she 
landed  we  hailed  her  with  approval  for  her  courage,  strength, 
and  skill;  but  Grandmother  was  annoyed — her  pipe  was  out. 

TRAVELLING  AT  NIGHT 

While  we  rested  a  few  minutes,  the  women  espied,  in  a  Uttle 
springy  dell,  some  unusually  fine  moss,  which  they  at  once  be- 
gan to  gather.  Indian  women  dry  it  and  use  it  in  a  number  of 
ways,  especially  for  packing  about  the  Httle  naked  bodies  of 
their  babies  when  lacing  them  to  their  cradle  boards.    The 


54  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

incident,  however,  reminds  me  of  what  once  happened  to  an 
Indian  woman  and  her  eight-year-old  daughter  when  they  were 
gathering  moss  about  a  mile  from  their  camp  on  the  shore  of 
Great  Slave  Lake.  They  were  working  in  a  muskeg,  and  the 
mother,  observing  a  clump  of  gnarled  spruces  a  httle  way  off, 
sent  her  daughter  there  to  see  if  there  were  any  berries.  In- 
stead of  fruit  the  child  found  a  nice  round  hole  that  led  into  a 
cavern  beneath  the  roots  of  the  trees  that  stood  upon  the  httle 
knoll;  and  she  called  to  her  mother  to  come  and  see  it.  On 
kneehng  down  and  peering  within,  the  mother  discovered  a 
bear  inside,  and  instantly  turning  about,  hauled  up  her  skirt 
and  sat  down  in  such  a  way  that  her  figure  completely  blocked 
the  hole  and  shut  out  all  hght.  Then  she  despatched  her  child 
on  the  run  for  camp,  to  tell  Father  to  come  immediately  with 
his  gun  and  shoot  the  bear. 

To  one  who  is  not  versed  in  woodcraft,  such  an  act  displays 
remarkable  bravery,  but  to  an  Indian  woman  it  meant  no  such 
thing,  it  was  merely  the  outcome  of  her  knowledge  of  bears,  for 
she  well  knew  that  as  long  as  all  hght  was  blocked  from  the 
hole  the  bear  would  lie  still.  But  perhaps  you  wonder  why  she 
pulled  up  her  skirt.  To  prevent  it  from  being  soiled  or  torn.^ 
No,  that  was  not  the  reason.  Again  it  was  her  knowledge  of 
bears  that  prompted  her,  for  she  knew  that  if  by  any  strange 
chance  the  bear  did  move  about  in  the  dark,  and  if  he  did 
happen  to  touch  her  bare  figure — for  Indian  ladies  never  wear 
lingerie — the  bear  would  have  been  so  mystified  on  encountering 
a  Hving  thing  in  the  dark  that  he  would  make  never  another 
move  until  light  solved  the  mystery.  However,  Father  came 
with  a  rush,  and  shot  the  bear,  and  the  brute  was  a  big  one,  too. 

During  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  we  found  the  current  quite 
slack  and  therefore,  making  better  headway,  we  gained  Caribou 
Lake  about  an  hour  before  sundown;  and  on  finding  a  fair  wind 
beneath  a  clear  sky  that  promised  moonlight,  it  was  decided 
to  sail  as  far  down  the  lake  as  the  breeze  would  favour  us,  and 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  55 

then  go  ashore  upon  some  neighbouring  isle  for  the  balance  of 
the  night.  So  two  stout  poles  were  secured  and  laid  across  our 
two  large  canoes  as  they  rested  about  a  foot  apart  and  parallel 
to  one  another.  Then,  the  poles  being  lashed  to  the  thwarts,  a 
single  "four-point"  blanket  was  rigged  horizontally  to  two 
masts,  one  standing  in  each  canoe  and  both  guyed  with  tump- 
lines,  and  leaning  away  from  each  other  in  order  to  spread  the 
improvised  sail.  Two  canoes  so  rigged  cannot  only  make  good 
headway,  but  can  with  safety  run  before  a  very  strong  wind. 
While  Oo-koo-hoo's  canoe  was  kept  free,  he  nevertheless 
counted  on  having  it  towed,  as  it  could  then  be  cast  off  without 
a  moment's  delay  in  case  of  our  coming  unexpectedly  upon 
tempting  game. 

Supper  was  no  sooner  over  than  we  were  lying  lazily  in  our 
canoes  and,  to  the  music  of  babbhng  water  and  foaming  wakes, 
rushing  toward  the  setting  sun.  Soon  twihght  overtook  us, 
and  wrapping  shadows  about  us,  accompanied  us  for  a  while. 
Next  starhght  appeeu'ed  and  with  myriads  of  twinkling  lanterns 
showed  us  our  way  among  the  now  silhouetted  islands.  Then 
the  moon  uprose  and  pushed  a  shiny  head  through  the  upper 
branches  of  the  eastern  trees.  At  first  it  merely  peeped  as 
though  to  make  sure  we  were  not  afraid;  then  it  came  out 
boldly  in  glory  and  quickly  turning  our  wake  into  a  path  of 
molten  gold,  began  to  soar  above  the  forest. 

For  a  while  I  could  hear  the  childish  prattle  of  the  children 
and  the  crooning  of  Naudin  as  she  hushed,  with  swaying  body, 
her  baby  to  her  breast. 

Then  even  those  gentle  sounds  died  away  as  the  httle  forms 
snuggled  down  beneath  the  blankets  among  the  dogs  and  bales. 
Occasionally  a  loon  called  to  us,  or  an  owl  swooped,  ghost-like, 
overhead,  and  as  we  passed  among  pine-crested  isles,  those 
weather-beaten  old  monarchs  just  stood  there,  and  whispering 
to  one  another,  shook  their  heads  as  we  swept  by. 

Then  for  a  few  moments  a  mother  moose  with  her  two  calves 


56  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

stood  knee  deep  in  a  water-lily  bay,  and  watched  us  on  our  way. 
But  Oo-koo-hoo  was  now  too  drowsy  to  think  of  anything  but 
sleep.  So  hour  after  hour  went  by  while  the  moon  rose  higher 
and  higher,  and  circling  round  to  the  westward,  began  to 
descend  in  front  of  us. 

POLING  UP  RAPIDS 

Out  of  the  east  came  dawn  with  a  sweep  of  radiant  splendour. 
StiU  we  sailed  westward,  ever  westward,  until  the  sun  rose  and 
through  the  rising  mist  showed  us  that  the  mouth  of  Caribou 
River  opened  right  before  us;  then,  happily,  we  landed  on  a 
little  island  to  breakfast,  and  to  drowse  away  a  couple  of  hours 
on  mossy  beds  beneath  the  shade  of  wind-blown  pines. 

Besides  shooting  a  few  ducks  and  a  beaver,  and  seeing  a 
distant  moose,  nothing  happened  that  was  eventful  enough  to 
deflect  my  interest  from  the  endless  variety  of  charming  scenery 
that  came  into  view  as  we  swept  round  bend  after  bend  of  that 
woodland  river;  at  least,  not  until  about  four  o'clock,  when 
we  arrived  at  the  foot  of  another  rapid.  This  Oo-koo-hoo  and 
Amik  examined  carefully  from  the  river  bank,  and  decided  that 
it  could  be  ascended  by  pohng.  So  from  green  wood  we  cut 
suitable  poles  of  about  two  inches  in  diameter  and  from  seven  to 
nine  feet  in  length  and  knifed  them  carefully  to  rid  them  of  bark 
and  knots.  Then,  for  this  was  a  shoal  rapids,  both  bowman 
and  stemman  stood  up,  the  better  to  put  the  full  force  of  their 
strength  and  weight  into  the  work;  the  children,  however, 
merely  knelt  to  the  work  of  wielding  their  slender  poles;  but  in 
deep  water,  or  where  there  were  many  boulders  and  conse- 
quently greater  risk  if  the  canoe  were  overturned,  all  would 
have  knelt  to  do  the  work. 

Going  bow-on  straight  for  the  mid-stream  current,  we  plied 
our  poles  to  good  advantage.  Each  man  remembered,  how- 
ever, to  lift  his  pole  only  when  his  mate's  had  been  planted 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  57 

firmly  in  the  river  bottom.  Then  he  would  fix  his  own  a  little 
farther  ahead  and  throw  all  his  weight  and  strength  upon  it, 
while  at  the  same  moment  his  companion  went  the  same  round. 
Then  he  would  firmly  re-fix  his  pole  a  little  farther  up  stream, 
and  then  once  again  shoved  in  unison.  Thus  foot  by  foot  we 
crept  up  stream.  It  was  hard  but  joyous  work,  for  standing 
up  in  a  canoe  surrounded  by  a  powerful  and  treacherous  cur- 
rent gave  us  the  thrill  of  adventure. 

OO-KOO-HOO  VISITS  BEAVERS 

All  the  canoes  having  mounted  the  white  water,  however, 
in  safety,  it  was  decided,  though  sunset  was  several  hours  away, 
to  spend  the  night  at  the  head  of  the  rapids,  as  the  place 
afforded  an  excellent  camping  ground  and  besides,  the  next 
day  was  Sunday,  a  day  upon  which  aU  good  trippers  cease  to 
travel.  While  the  canvas  tepee,  and  my  tent,  too,  were  being 
erected,  we  heard  the  dogs  barking  and  growhng  several  hun- 
dred yards  away,  so  Amik,  shpping  on  his  powder  horn  and 
bullet  pouch,  ran  to  investigate.  Presently  the  report  of  his 
gun  was  added  to  the  din,  then  silence  reigned;  and  when  we 
went  to  see  what  had  happened  we  found  that  the  hunter  had 
shot  a  two-year-old  moose  heifer  that  the  dogs  had  bayed. 
Then,  as  was  her  custom,  Granny  came  with  her  pail  to  catch 
the  blood,  and  to  select  the  entrails  she  needed  to  hold  it.  By 
supper  time  the  moose  had  not  only  been  skinned  but  the 
carcass  dressed,  too.  After  the  meal  was  over.  Granny  washed 
the  entrails  inside  and  out  and  then  stuffed  them  with  a  mixture 
of  blood  and  oatmeal  that  she  had  prepared  and  seasoned  with 
salt,  and  hung  her  home-made  sausages  high  up  inside  the  tepee 
to  let  them  congeal  and  also  to  be  out  of  reach  of  the  dogs.  In 
the  meantime,  Amik  had  made  two  frames,  and  Naudin  and  her 
daughters  had  stretched  and  laced  into  them,  not  only  the 
moose  hide,  but  the  skin  of  the  caribou  as  well;  and  when  the 


58  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

meat  was  cut  up  and  hung  from  the  branches  of  a  tree,  it  was 
time  to  sit  aroimd  the  fire  and  have  our  evening  talk. 

But  Oo-koo-hoo,  shpping  away  in  his  hunting  canoe,  paddled 
up  a  httle  creek  into  a  small  lake  in  which  he  knew  a  colony  of 
beavers  hved.  He  was  gone  about  an  hour  and  upon  his  return 
he  told  us  about  it.  On  gaining  the  Uttle  mere,  he,  without 
removing  his  paddle  from  the  water,  propelled  his  canoe  slowly 
and  silently  along  the  shore  in  the  shadow  of  the  overhanging 
trees,  until  a  large  beaver  lodge  appeared  in  the  rising  mist; 
and  then  standing  up  in  his  canoe — in  order  to  get  a  better 
view — ^he  became  motionless.  Minutes  passed  while  the  rising 
moon  cast  golden  ripples  upon  the  water,  and  two  beavers, 
rising  from  below,  swam  toward  and  mounted  the  roof  of  their 
island  home.  Then,  while  the  moonhght  faded  and  glowed, 
other  beavers  appeared  and  swam  hither  and  thither;  some 
hauhng  old  barkless  poles,  others  bringing  freshly  cut  poplar 
branches,  and  all  busily  engaged.  A  twig  snapping  behind 
the  hunter,  he  turned  his  head,  and  as  he  caught  a  vanishing 
glimpse  of  a  lynx  in  a  tree,  he  was  instantly  startled  by  a  tre- 
mendous report  and  a  splashing  upheaval  of  water  beside  his 
canoe.  A  beaver  had  been  swimming  there,  and  on  seeing  the 
hunter  move,  had  struck  the  water  with  its  powerful  tail,  to 
warn  its  mates  before  it  dived.  The  lynx  had  been  watching 
the  beaver. 

"Did  you  bring  back  anything?" 

"No,  my  son,"  Oo-koo-hoo  repUed,  "that  hunting-ground 
belongs  to  an  old  friend  of  mine." 

WOODCRAFT  OF  TRAILING 

After  a  while  the  subject  of  woodcraft  arose.  When  I  in- 
quired as  to  how  I  could  best  locate  the  north  in  case  I  happened 
to  be  traveUing  on  a  cloudy  day  without  a  compass,  the  old 
hunter  rephed,  that  though  he  never  used  a  compass,  he  found 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  59 

no  difficulty  in  determining  the  north  at  any  time,  as  the  woods 
were  full  of  signs.  For  instance,  the  branches  of  trees  had  a 
general  tendency  to  be  less  numerous  and  shorter  on  the  north 
side,  and  the  bark  on  the  north  side  was  usually  finer  in  texture 
and  of  a  smoother  surface.  Also  moss  was  more  often  found  on 
the  north  side  of  vertical  trees.  The  tops  of  pine  trees  usually 
leant  toward  the  southeast — ^but  that  that  was  not  always  a 
sure  sign  in  all  locaUties,  as  in  some  places  the  tree  tops  were 
affected  by  the  prevailing  winds.  The  stumps  of  trees  fur- 
nished a  surer  indication.  They  showed  the  rings  of  growth 
to  be  greater  in  thickness  on  the  north  side.  When  trees  were 
shattered  by  hghtning,  the  cracks  more  often  opened  on  the 
south  side  for  hghtning  generally  struck  from  that  direction. 
Snow  was  usually  deeper  on  the  south  side  of  trees  on  account 
of  the  prevaihng  northerly  winds;  and  if  one  dug  away  the  crust 
from  around  a  tree  they  would  come  to  fine,  granulated  snow 
much  sooner  on  the  north  side,  thus  proving  where  the  shadow 
usually  fell.  Furthermore,  as  the  snowdrifts  always  pointed 
in  the  direction  whither  the  wind  had  gone,  knowing  the  direc- 
tion of  the  prevaihng  winds,  one  had  no  trouble  in  locating 
the  north  even  on  the  snow-covered  surface  of  a  great  lake. 

The  old  woodman  cautioned  me  that  if,  while  travelling 
alone  upon  a  big  lake,  I  should  be  overtaken  by  a  bhzzard, 
in  no  case  should  I  try  to  fight  it,  but  stop  right  in  my  tracks, 
take  off  my  snowshoes,  dig  a  hole  in  the  snow,  turn  my  sled 
over  on  its  side  to  form  a  wind-break,  crawl  into  the  hole  with 
the  dogs,  and  wait  until  the  storm  subsided.  If  a  bhzzard 
came  head-on  it  was  useless  to  try  to  fight  it,  for  it  would  easily 
win;  but  ff  the  wind  were  fair  and  if  one  were  still  sure  of  his 
bearings,  he  might  drfft  with  the  wind,  although  at  heavy  risk, 
as  the  wind  is  apt  to  change  its  course  and  the  tripper  lose  his 
way.  There  was  always  one  consolation,  however,  and  that 
was  that  the  greater  the  storm  the  sooner  it  was  over.  Another 
thing  I  should  remember  when  travelling  on  a  lake  or  over  an 


60  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

open  country,  in  a  violent  snow-storm — I  should  allow  for 
drifting,  much  in  the  same  way  as  one  would  if  travelling  by 
canoe. 

By  that  time,  however,  the  women  and  children  had  gone 
to  sleep  upon  their  evergreen  beds,  while  we  three  men  con- 
tinued to  converse  in  whispers  over  the  glow  of  the  fading 
fire.  Next  I  asked  Oo-koo-hoo  in  which  direction  men  usually 
turned  when  lost  in  the  woods — to  the  right  or  to  the  left? 
He  replied  that  circumstances  had  much  to  do  with  that,  for 
the  character  of  the  country  affected  the  man's  tiu-ning,  as  it 
was  natural  to  follow  the  hne  of  least  resistance;  also  it  de- 
pended somewhat  on  the  man's  build — ^whether  one  leg  were 
shorter  than  the  other.  But  though  he  had  repeatedly  ex- 
perimented, he  could  not  arrive  at  any  definite  conclusion. 
However,  when  trying  bhndfolded  men  on  a  frozen  lake,  he 
noticed  that  they  had  a  tendency  to  turn  to  the  south  regardless 
of  whether  they  were  facing  east  or  west.  And  he  concluded 
by  remarking  that  he  thought  people  were  very  foolish  to  put 
so  much  faith  in  certain  statements,  simply  because  they  were 
twice-told  tales. 

Upon  my  questioning  him  as  to  how  a  hunter  would  act, 
if,  for  instance,  he  were  trailing  a  moose,  and  suspected  that 
he  was  being  followed  by  enemies,  say  a  pack  of  wolves,  or 
strange  hunters,  he  informed  me  that  if  that  happened  to 
him — that  if  he  suspected  some  enemy  were  following  his  trail — 
he  would  not  stop,  nor  even  look  around,  but  at  the  first 
favourable  opportunity,  when  he  was  sure  he  couldn't  be  ob- 
served, he  would  leave  the  game  trail,  circle  back  a  mile  or  so 
through  the  woods,  and  upon  cutting  his  old  track  would  at 
once  learn  what  was  following  him.  Then  if  it  were  worth 
while  he  could  trail  his  pursuers  and,  coming  up  behind  them, 
could  take  them  unaware.  But  if  all  this  happened  on  a  lake 
or  in  open  country,  where  he  could  not  circle  back  under  cover, 
he  would  suddenly  turn  in  his  tracks,  as  though  upon  a  pivot. 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  61 

and  without  losing  the  least  headway  or  causing  a  moment's 
delay  in  his  pace,  he  l7ould  continue  walking,  but  now  in  a 
backward  direction,  long  enough  to  give  himself  ample  time  to 
scrutinize  his  distant  trail.  By  manoeuvring  thus,  he  could 
study  his  pursuers  without  arousing  their  suspicion,  for  whether 
they  were  animals  or  men,  the  chances  would  be — if  they  were 
some  distance  away — that  they  would  never  notice  that  he 
had  turned  about,  and  was  now  inspecting  his  own  tracks. 

As  regards  traihng  game,  whether  large  or  small,  he  cautioned 
me  to  watch  my  quarry  carefully,  and  instantly  to  become  rigid 
at  the  first  sign  that  the  game  was  about  to  turn  round  or 
raise  its  head  to  peer  in  my  direction.  More  than  that,  I 
should  not  only  remain  motionless  while  the  animal  was  gazing 
toward  me,  but  I  should  assume  at  once  some  form  that  sug- 
gested the  character  of  the  surrounding  trees  or  bushes  or  rocks. 
For  example,  among  straight-boled,  perfectly  vertical  trees,  I 
should  stand  upright;  among  uprooted  trees,  I  should  assume 
the  character  of  an  overturned  stump,  by  standing  with  in- 
clined body,  bent  legs,  and  arms  and  fingers  thrust  out  at  such 
angles  as  to  suggest  the  roots  of  a  fallen  tree.  And  he  added 
that  if  I  doubted  the  wisdom  of  such  an  act,  I  should  test  it  at  a 
distance  of  fifty  or  a  hundred  paces,  and  prove  the  difficulty 
of  detecting  a  man  who  assumed  a  characteristic  landscape 
pose  among  trees  or  rocks.  That  was  years  before  the  World 
War  had  brought  the  word  camouflage  into  general  use;  for  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  forest  Indians  had  been  practising  camou- 
flage for  centiu-ies  and,  no  doubt,  that  was  one  reason  why  many 
of  the  Indians  in  the  Canadian  Expeditionary  Force  did  such 
remarkable  work  as  snipers. 

INDIANS  IN  THE  WORLD  WAR 

For  instance:  Sampson  Comego  destroyed  twenty-eight  of 
the  enemy.    Philip  Macdonald  killed  forty,  Johnny  Ballantyne 


62  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

fifty-eight.  "One  of  their  number,  Lance-Corporal  Johnson 
Paudash,"  as  the  Department  of  Indian  Affairs  states,  "re- 
ceived the  Mihtary  Medal  for  his  distinguished  gallantry  in 
saving  life  under  heavy  fire  and  for  giving  a  warning  that  the 
enemy  were  preparing  a  counter-attack  at  Hill  Seventy;  the 
counter-attack  took  place  twenty-five  minutes  after  Paudash 
gave  the  information.  It  is  said  that  a  serious  reverse  was 
averted  as  a  result  of  his  action.  Like  other  Indian  soldiers,  he 
won  a  splendid  record  as  a  sniper,  and  is  officially  credited  with 
having  destroyed  no  less  than  eighty-eight  of  the  enemy.  An- 
other Indian  who  won  fame  at  the  front  was  Lance-Corporal 
Norwest;  he  was  one  of  the  foremost  snipers  in  the  army  and 
was  officially  credited  with  one  hundred  and  fifteen  observed 
hits.  He  won  the  Mihtary  Medal  and  bar.  StiU  another,  Cor- 
poral Francis  Pegahmagabow,  won  the  Mihtary  Medal  and  two 
bars.  He  distinguished  himself  signally  as  a  sniper  and  bears 
the  extraordinary  record  of  having  killed  three  hundred  and 
seventy-eight  of  the  enemy.  His  Mihtary  Medal  and  two  bars 
were  awarded,  however,  for  his  distinguished  conduct  at  Mount 
Sorrell,  Amiens,  and  Passchendaele.  At  Passchendaele,  Cor- 
poral Pegahmagabow  led  his  company  through  an  engagement 
with  a  single  casualty,  and  subsequently  captured  three  hun- 
dred Germans  at  Mount  Sorrell. 

"The  fine  record  of  the  Indians  in  the  great  war  appears 
in  a  pecuharly  favourable  hght  when  it  is  remembered 
that  their  services  were  absolutely  voluntary,  as  they  were 
specially  exempted  from  the  operation  of  the  Mihtary 
Service  Act,  and  that  they  were  prepared  to  give  their  lives 
for  their  country  without  compulsion  or  even  the  fear  of 
compulsion." 

Many  military  medals  were  won  by  the  Canadian  Indians; 
Captain  A.G.E.  Smith  of  the  Grand  River  Band  of  the  Iroquois 
having  been  decorated  seven  times  by  the  Governments  of 
England,  France,  and  Poland,  and  many  distinguished  them- 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  63 

selves  by  great  acts  upon  the  battlefield.  "Another  Indian  to 
be  decorated  was  DaVe  Kisek.  During  the  heavy  fighting 
around  Cambrai  he  unstrapped  a  machine  gun  from  his 
shoulder  and  advanced  about  one  hundred  yards  to  the  German 
position,  where  he  ran  along  the  top  of  their  trench,  doing  deadly 
execution  with  his  machine  gun.  He,  single-handed,  took  thirty 
prisoners  upon  this  occasion.  This  Indian  came  from  the  re- 
mote regions  of  the  Patricia  district.  Sergeant  Clear  Sky  was 
awarded  the  Mihtary  Medal  for  one  of  the  most  gallant  and 
unselfish  deeds  that  is  recorded  in  the  annals  of  the  Canadian 
Expeditionary  Force.  During  a  heavy  gas  attack  he  noticed 
a  wounded  man  lying  in  *No  Man's  Land'  whose  gas  mask 
had  been  rendered  useless.  Clear  Sky  crawled  to  him  through 
the  poisonous  fumes,  removed  his  own  mask,  and  placed  it  on 
the  wounded  man,  whose  life  was  in  consequence  saved.  Ser- 
geant Clear  Sky  was  himself  severely  gassed  as  a  result  of  his 
heroic  action.  Joe  Thunder  was  awarded  the  Mihtary  Medal 
for  a  feat  of  arms  of  an  exceptionally  dramatic  character.  He 
was  separated  from  his  platoon  and  surrounded  by  six  Ger- 
mans, each  of  whom  he  bayoneted.  George  McLean  received 
the  Distinguished  Conduct  Medal  in  recognition  of  the  per- 
formance of  a  feat  which  was  an  extraordinary  one  even  for 
the  great  war.  Private  McLean,  single-handed,  destroyed 
nineteen  of  the  enemy  with  bombs  and  captured  fourteen." 

And  yet  not  a  single  Canadian  Indian  has  claimed  that  he 
won  the  World  War — not  even  Pegahmagabow,  who  shot 
three  hundred  and  seventy-eight  Germans. 

APPROACHING  GAME 

But  to  return  to  the  land  of  peace.  Of  course,  in  attempting 
to  deceive  game,  one  must  always  guard  against  approaching 
down  wind,  for  most  animals  grow  more  frantic  over  the  scent 
than  they  do  over  the  sight  of  man.    Later  on,  when  I  went 


64  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

hunting  with  Oo-koo-hoo,  he  used  to  make  me  laugh,  for  at  one 
moment  he  would  be  a  jolly  old  Indian  gentleman,  and  just 
as  likely  as  not  the  next  instant  he  would  be  posing  as  a  rotten 
pine  stump  that  had  been  violently  overturned,  and  now  re- 
sembled an  object  against  which  a  bear  might  like  to  rub  his 
back  and  scratch  himself. 

Often  have  I  proved  the  value  of  the  old  hunter's  methods, 
and  I  could  recite  not  a  few  instances  of  how  easy  it  is  to  de- 
ceive either  birds  or  animals;  but  I  shall  mention  only  one, 
which  happened  on  the  borderline  of  Alaska.  I  was  running 
through  a  grove  of  heavy  timber,  where  the  moss  was  so  deep 
that  my  tread  made  no  sound,  when  suddenly  roimding  a  large 
boulder,  I  came  upon  a  black  bear  less  than  fourteen  paces 
away.  It  was  sitting  upon  its  haunches,  directly  in  the  foot- 
path I  was  following.  As  good  luck  would  have  it,  I  saw  him 
first,  and  for  the  fun  of  it,  I  instantly  became  an  old  gray 
stump — or  tried  to  look  like  one.  Presently  the  bear's  head 
swung  round,  and  at  first  he  seemed  a  bit  uneasy  over  the  fact 
that  he  had  not  seen  that  stump  before.  It  appeared  to 
puzzle  him,  for  he  even  twisted  about  to  get  a  better  view;  but 
after  watching  me  for  about  five  minutes  he  contentedly  turned 
his  head  away.  A  few  minutes  later,  however,  he  looked  again, 
and  becoming  reassured,  yawned  deKberately  in  my  face.  But 
by  that  time,  being  troubled  with  a  kink  in  my  back,  I  had 
to  straighten  up.  Then,  strange  to  say,  as  I  walked  quietly 
and  slowly  round  him  to  gain  the  path  ahead,  the  brute  did  not 
even  get  up  off  his  haunches — but  such  behaviour  on  the  part 
of  a  bear  rarely  happens. 

Perhaps  you  wonder  why  I  didn't  shoot  the  brute.  I  never 
carry  a  gun.  For  when  one  is  provided  with  food,  one  can  carry 
no  more  useless  thing  than  a  gun;  so  far  as  protection  is  con- 
cerned, there  is  no  more  need  to  carry  a  gun  in  the  north  woods, 
than  to  carry  a  gun  down  Broadway;  in  fact,  the  wolves  of 
Broadway — especially  those  of  the  female  species — are  much 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  65 

more  dangerous  to  man  than  the  wolves  of  the  Great  Northern 
Forest. 

SUNDAY  IN  CAMP 

Next  morning  being  Sunday,  we  did  not  strike  camp,  and  the 
first  thing  the  women  attended  to,  even  while  breakfast  was 
imder  way,  was  the  starting  of  a  fire  of  damp,  rotten  wood, 
which  smoked  but  never  blazed,  and  over  which,  at  a  distance 
of  about  four  feet,  they  leant  the  stretched  deerskins,  hair  side 
up,  to  dry.  Besides  those,  other  frames  were  made  and  erected 
over  another  slow  fire,  and  here  the  flakes  or  slabs  of  moose 
flesh  were  hung  to  be  dried  and  smoked  into  what  is  caUed 
jerked  meat.  The  fat,  being  chopped  up  and  melted  in  a  pail, 
was  then  poured  into  the  moose  bladder  and  other  entrails  to 
cool  and  be  handy  for  future  use.  Of  course,  it  would  take 
several  days  to  dry  out  the  deerskins;  so  each  morning  when  we 
were  about  to  travel,  the  skins  were  unlaced  and  roUed  up,  to 
be  re-stretched  and  placed  over  another  fire  the  foUowing 
evening. 

Sunday  was  pleasantly  spent,  notwithstanding  that  so  many 
difi'erent  rehgious  denominations  were  represented  in  camp:  for 
while  old  Ojistoh  counted  her  beads  according  to  the  Roman 
CathoUc  faith,  Amik  and  Naudin  were  singing  hynms,  as  the 
former  was  an  English  Churchman  and  his  wife  a  Presbyterian; 
but  Oo-koo-hoo  would  join  in  none  of  it  as  he  had  no  faith  what- 
ever in  the  various  rehgions  of  the  white  men  and  so  he  re- 
mained a  pagan.  Part  of  the  day  we  spent  in  pottering  about, 
in  doing  a  Httle  mending  here  and  there,  smoking,  telling 
stories,  or  in  strolling  through  the  woods;  as  both  Oo-koo-hoo 
and  Amik  were  opposed  to  doing  actual  work  on  Sunday.  In 
the  afternoon  I  turned  to  sketching,  and  my  drawing  excited 
so  much  interest  that  Amik  tried  his  hand,  and  in  a  crude  way 
his  sketches  of  animals  and  birds  were  quite  graphic  in  charac- 
ter.   One  sketch  I  made,  that  of  the  baby,  so  pleased  Neykia, 


66  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

that  I  gave  it  to  her,  and  when  she  reahzed  my  intention  she 
seized  it  with  such  eagerness  that  she  criimpled  and  ahnost 
tore  the  paper;  for  as  the  Ojibways  have  no  word  to  express  their 
thanks,  they  show  their  gratitude  by  the  eagerness  with  which 
they  accept  a  present. 

That,  however,  reminds  me  of  having  read  in  one  of  the 
leading  American  magazines  an  account  of  a  noted  Americsui 
illustrator's  trip  into  the  woods  of  Quebec.  While  there  he 
presented  a  red  handkerchief  to  an  Indian  girl.  The  fact  that 
she  snatched  it  from  him,  and  then  ran  away,  was  to  him — as  he 
stated — a  sign  that  she  was  willing  to  comply  with  any  evil 
intentions  he  might  entertain  toward  her.  Such  absolute 
rot!  The  poUte  little  maid  was  merely  trying  to  express  her 
unboimded  thanks  for  his  gift. 

The  only  thing  that  interrupted  our  paddhng  the  following 
day  was  our  going  ashore  to  portage  around  a  picturesque 
waterfall  where  two  huge  rocks,  on  the  very  brink  of  the 
cascade,  split  the  river  into  three.  When  we  had  carried 
up  the  canoes,  we  found  the  children  making  a  great  to-do 
about  wasps  attacking  them;  for  they  had  put  down  their 
packs  beside  a  wasps'  hole;  and  old  Granny,  seeing  the 
commotion,  had  put  down  her  end  of  the  canoe,  and  with 
disgust  exclaimed: 

"Oh,  my  foohsh  people,  always  standing  around  and  waiting 
for  old  Granny  to  fix  everything!"  So  saying,  she  pulled  a 
big  bunch  of  long,  dry  grass,  and  lighting  it,  ran  with  a  blanket 
over  her  head,  and  placed  the  fire  against  the  wasps'  hole;  in  a 
moment  they  ceased  their  attack  and  utterly  disappeared. 

We  were  now  nearing  the  fork  of  Crane  River,  that  in  its 
three-mile  course  came  from  Crane  Lake,  on  the  shore  of  which 
was  Oo-koo-hoo's  last  winter's  camping  ground;  the  men  there- 
fore decided  that  it  was  best  for  Amik  to  push  on  in  the  light 
canoe  and  get  the  two  deerskin  winter  tepee  coverings,  as  well 
as  their  traps,  that  had  been  cached  there  last  spring;  and  then 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  67 

return  to  the  fork  of  the  river  where  the  family  would  go  into 
camp  and  wait  for  him. 

NEARING   trip's   END 

Transferring  most  of  the  cargo  to  the  other  canoes,  Amik  and 
I  provided  ourselves  with  a  Uttle  snack  and  started  at  once  for 
Oo-koo-koo's  old  camping  ground.  It  appeared  ahout  a  three- 
mile  paddle  to  the  fork  of  the  river.  Nothing  save  the  quack- 
ing of  ducks  rushing  by  on  the  wing,  the  occasional  rise  of  a 
crane  in  front  of  us,  the  soaring  of  an  eagle  overhead,  and  the 
rippling  wakes  left  by  muskrats  as  they  scurried  away,  en- 
hvened  our  hmried  trip.  We  found  the  leather  lodge  coverings 
in  good  order  upon  a  stage,  and  securing  them  along  with  several 
bundles  of  steel  traps  that  hung  from  trees,  we  put  all  aboard 
and  found  we  had  quite  a  load,  for  not  only  were  the  tepee 
coverings  bulky,  each  bimdle  being  about  two  feet  thick  by 
four  feet  long,  but  they  were  heavy,  too,  for  each  weighed 
about  a  hundred  pounds.  Then,  too,  the  traps  were  quite  a 
load  in  themselves.  I  didn't  stop  to  count  them,  but  it  is 
surprising  the  munber  of  traps  a  keen,  hard-working  hunter 
employs;  and  they  ranged  all  the  way  from  smaU  ones  for  rat 
and  ermine  to  ponderous  ones  for  bears.  Also  we  gathered  up 
a  few  odds  and  ends  such  as  old  axes,  an  iron  pot,  a  couple  of 
slush  scoops,  a  bundle  of  fish-nets,  and  a  lot  of  old  snowshoes. 
Crane  Lake,  like  many  another  northern  mere,  was  a  charming 
httle  body  of  water  nestling  among  beautiful  hills.  After  a  cup 
of  tea  and  some  bannock,  we  once  more  phed  our  paddles. 

Now  it  was  down  stream  and  we  glided  swiftly  along,  arriving 
at  the  confluence  of  the  Crane  and  Caribou  just  before  twilight 
and  found  smiling  faces  and  a  good  supper  awaiting  our  return. 
How  human  some  Indians  are,  much  more  so  than  many  a 
cold-blooded  white. 

Next  day  we  wanted  to  make  the  Height-of-land  portage 


68  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

for  our  camp.  As  it  meant  a  long,  stiff  paddle  against  a  strong 
cm-rent  for  most  of  the  distance,  we  were  up  early,  if  not  bright, 
and  on  our  way  before  sunrise.  This  time,  however,  no  rapids 
impeded  us  and  we  reached  the  portage  on  the  farther  shore 
of  Height-of-land  Lake,  tired  and  hungry,  but  happy  over  a 
day's  work  well  done.  It  was  a  pretty  little  lake  about  two 
miles  long,  surrounded  by  low-lying  land  in  the  midst  of  a  range 
of  great  rock-bound  hills,  and  its  waters  had  a  whimsical  fashion 
of  running  either  east  or  west  according  to  which  way  the  wind 
struck  it.  Thus  its  waters  became  divided  and,  flowing  either 
way,  travel  afar  to  their  final  destinations  in  oceans  thousands 
of  miles  apart.  But  the  western  outlet.  Moose  Creek,  being  too 
shallow  for  canoes,  a  portage  of  a  couple  of  miles  was  made  the 
following  day,  to  the  fork  of  an  incoming  stream  that  doubles 
its  waters  and  makes  the  creek  navigable.  When  we  camped 
that  night  the  hour  was  late.  Then  a  two-days'  run — the 
second  of  which  we  traveUed  due  north — took  us  into  Moose 
Lake;  but  not  without  shooting  three  rapids,  each  of  which  the 
Indians  examined  carefully  before  we  undertook  the  sport  that 
all  enjoyed  so  much.  An  eastern  storm,  however,  caught  us 
on  Moose  Lake  and  not  only  sent  us  ashore  on  an  island,  but 
windbound  us  there  for  two  days  while  cold  showers  pelted  us. 
Another  day  and  a  half  up  Bear  River,  with  a  portage  round 
Crane  Falls,  landed  us  on  the  western  shore  of  Bear  Lake  at  the 
mouth  of  Muskrat  Creek — and  there  we  were  to  spend  the 
winter. 

There,  too,  I  remembered  Thoreau  when  he  said:  "As  I 
ran  down  the  hill  toward  the  reddening  west,  with  the  rainbow 
over  my  shoulder,  and  some  faint  tinkling  sounds  borne  to  my 
ear  through  the  cleansed  air,  from  I  know  not  what  quarter, 
my  Good  Genius  seemed  to  say, — *Go  fish  and  hunt  far  and 
wide  day  by  day, — ^farther  and  wider, — and  rest  thee  by  many 
brooks  and  hearth-sides  without  misgiving.  Remember  thy 
Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth.    Rise  free  from  care  before 


IN  QUEST  OF  TREASURE  69 

the  dawn,  and  seek  adventures.  Let  the  noon  find  thee  by 
other  lakes,  and  the  night  overtake  thee  everywhere  at  home'." 
And  furthermore:  " Let  not  to  get  a  living  be  thy  trade,  but  thy 
sport.  Enjoy  the  land,  but  own  it  not.  Through  want  of 
enterprise  and  faith  men  are  where  they  are,  buying  and  seUing, 
and  spending  their  Kves  like  serfs." 


Ill 

00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO 

OUR  WINTER   CAMP 

Bear  Lake  was  beautiful.  Its  shores  were  fringed  here  and 
there  with  marshy  reeds  or  sandy  beaches;  and  its  rivulets, 
flowing  in  and  out,  connected  it  with  other  meres  in  other 
regions.  At  dawn  moose  and  caribou  came  thither  to  drink; 
bears  roamed  its  surrounding  slopes;  lynxes,  foxes,  fishers, 
martens,  ermines,  and  minks  lived  in  its  bordering  woods. 
Otters,  muskrats,  and  beavers  swam  its  inrushing  creeks; 
wolverines  prowled  its  rocky  glens,  and  nightly  concerts  of 
howhng  wolves  echoed  along  its  shores.  The  eagles  and  the 
hawks  built  their  nests  in  its  towering  trees,  while  the  cranes 
fished  and  the  ruffed  grouse  drummed.  Nightly,  too,  the  owls 
and  the  loons  hooted  and  laughed  at  the  quacking  ducks  and  the 
honking  geese  as  they  flew  swiftly  by  in  the  hght  of  the  moon. 
Salmon-trout,  whitefish,  pike,  and  pickerel  rippled  its  placid 
waters,  and  brook-trout  leaped  above  the  shimmering  pools  of 
its  crystal  streams.  It  was  Oo-koo-hoo's  happiest  hunting 
ground,  and  truly  it  was  a  hunter's  paradise  ...  a  poet's 
heaven    ...     an  artist's  home. 

"What  fools  we  mortals  be!" — ^when  we  five  in  the  city! 

The  site  chosen  for  the  lodges  was  on  one  of  two  points  jutting 
into  the  lake,  separated  by  the  waters  of  Muskrat  Creek.  On 
its  northwest  side  ran  a  heavily  timbered  ridge  that  broke  the 
force  of  the  winter  winds  from  the  west  and  the  north,  and  thus 
protected  Oo-koo-hoo's  camp,  which  stood  on  the  southeast  side 
of  the  fittle  stream.    Such  a  site  in  such  a  region  afforded  wood, 

70 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  71 

water,  fruit,  fish,  fowl,  and  game;  and,  moreover,  an  enchanting 
view  of  the  surrounding  country.  Furthermore,  that  section  of 
The  Owl's  game-lands  had  not  beenhunted  for  forty-two  moons. 

Immediately  after  dinner  the  men  began  cutting  lodge  poles, 
while  the  women  cleared  the  tepee  sites  and  levelled  the  ground. 
On  asking  Oo-koo-hoo  how  many  poles  would  be  required  for 
the  canvas  lodge  which  he  had  kindly  offered  me  the  use  of  for 
the  coming  winter,  he  repHed: 

"  My  son,  cut  a  pole  for  every  moon,  and  cut  them  thirteen 
feet  in  length,  and  the  base  of  the  tepee,  too,  should  be  thirteen 
feet  across."  Then  looking  at  me  with  his  small,  shrewd,  but 
pleasant  eyes,  he  added:  "Thirteen  is  our  lucky  number.  It 
always  brings  good  fortune.  Besides,  most  canoes  are  made  of 
thirteen  pieces,  and  when  we  kill  big  game,  we  eJways  cut  the 
carcasses  into  thirteen  parts.  My  son,  when  I  have  time  I  shedl 
carve  a  different  symbol  upon  each  of  the  thirteen  poles  of  your 
lodge;  they  shall  represent  the  thirteen  moons  of  the  year,  and 
thus  they  will  enable  you  to  keep  track  of  the  phase  of  the 
season  through  which  you  are  passing." 

All  the  poles  were  of  green  pine  or  spruce.  The  thin  ends 
of  three  of  the  stoutest  were  lashed  together;  on  being  erected, 
they  formed  a  tripod  against  which  the  other  poles  were  leant, 
while  their  butts,  placed  in  a  circle,  were  spread  an  equal  distance 
apart.  Over  that  framework  the  lodge  covering  was  spread  by 
inserting  the  end  of  a  pole  into  the  pocket  of  each  of  the  two 
windshields,  and  then  hoisting  the  covering  into  place.  Next 
the  lapping  edges,  brought  together  over  the  doorway,  were 
fastened  securely  together  with  wooden  pins,  while  the  bottom 
edge  was  pegged  down  all  round  the  lodge  with  wooden  stakes. 
In  the  centre  of  the  floor-space  six  little  cut  logs  were  fastened 
down  in  the  form  of  a  hexagon,  and  the  earth  scooped  from 
within  the  hexagon  was  banked  against  the  logs  to  form  a 
permanent  and  limited  fireplace.  The  surrounding  floor 
space  was  covered  with  a  layer  of  fir-brush,  then  a  layer  of 


72  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

rushes,  and  finally,  where  the  beds  were  to  be  laid,  a  heavy 
mattress  of  balsam  twigs  laid,  shingle-fashion,  one  upon 
another,  with  their  stems  down.  Thus  a  springy,  comfortable 
bed  was  formed,  and  the  lodge  perfumed  with  a  dehghtful 
forest  aroma.  Above  the  fireplace  was  hung  a  stage,  or  frame- 
work of  fight  sticks,  upon  which  to  dry  or  smoke  the  meat. 
Around  the  wall  on  the  inner  side  was  hung  a  canvas  curtain 
that  overlapped  the  floor,  and  thus  protected  the  lodgers  from 
draught  while  they  were  sitting  about  the  fire.  The  doorway 
was  two  feet  by  five,  and  was  covered  with  a  raw  deerskin 
hung  from  the  top.  A  stick  across  the  lower  edge  kept  the  skin 
taut.  A  log  at  the  bottom  of  the  doorway  answered  for  a  door- 
step and  in  winter  kept  out  the  snow.  Now  the  lodge  was 
ready  for  occupation. 

As  there  are  six  diflferent  ways  of  building  campfires,  it 
should  be  explained  that  my  friends  built  theirs  according  to 
the  Ojibway  custom;  that  is,  in  the  so-caUed  "lodge  fashion", 
by  placing  the  sticks  upright,  leaning  them  together,  and  cross- 
ing them  over  one  another  in  the  manner  of  lodge  poles.  When 
the  fire  was  lighted,  the  windshields  formed  a  perfect  draught 
to  carry  the  smoke  up  through  the  permanently  open  flue  in  the 
apex  of  the  structure,  and  one  soon  reafized  that  of  all  tents 
or  dwellings,  no  healthier  abode  was  ever  contrived  by  man. 
Indeed,  if  the  stupid,  meddlesome  agents  of  civifization  had 
been  wise  enough  to  have  left  the  Indians  in  their  tepees,  instead 
of  forcing  them  to  five  in  houses — the  ventilation  of  which  was 
never  understood — they  would  have  been  spared  at  least  one  of 
civilization's  diseases — ^tuberculosis — and  many  more  tribes- 
men would  have  been  afive  to-day. 

On  entering  an  Indian  tepee  one  usuaUy  finds  the  first  space, 
on  the  right  of  the  doorway,  occupied  by  the  woodpile;  the 
next,  by  the  wife;  the  third,  by  the  baby;  and  the  fourth,  by 
the  husband.  Opposite  these,  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire, 
the  older  children  are  ranged.    To  the  visitor  is  aUotted  the 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  73 

warmest  place  in  the  lodge,  the  place  of  honour,  farthest  from 
and  directly  opposite  the  doorway.  When  the  dogs  are  al- 
lowed in  the  tepee,  they  know  their  place  to  be  the  first  space 
on  the  left,  between  the  entrance  and  the  children. 

While  the  two  leather  lodges  of  the  Indians  stood  close  to- 
gether with  stages  near  at  hand  upon  which  to  store  food  and 
implements  out  of  reach  of  the  dogs  and  wild  animals,  my 
tepee,  the  canvas  one,  stood  by  itself  a  little  farther  up  the 
creek.  Taking  particular  pains  in  making  my  bed,  and  settling 
everything  for  service  and  comfort,  I  turned  in  that  night 
in  a  happy  mood  and  fell  asleep  contemplating  the  season 
of  adventure  before  me  and  the  great  charm  of  living  in  such 
simplicity.  "In  the  savage  state  every  family  owns  a  shelter 
as  good  as  the  best,  and  sufficient  for  its  coarser  and  simpler 
wants,"  says  Thoreau,  "but  I  think  that  I  speak  within 
bounds  when  I  say  that,  though  birds  of  the  air  have  their  nests, 
and  the  foxes  their  holes,  and  the  savages  their  wigwams,  in 
modem  civihzed  society  not  more  than  one  half  the  families 
own  a  shelter.  In  the  large  towns  and  cities,  where  civilization 
especially  prevails,  the  nmnber  of  those  who  own  a  shelter  is 
a  very  small  fraction  of  the  whole.  The  rest  pay  an  annual 
tax  for  this  outside  garment  of  all,  become  indispensable  simi- 
mer  and  winter,  which  would  buy  a  village  of  Indian  wigwams 
but  now  helps  to  keep  them  poor  as  long  as  they  live.  .  .  . 
But  how  happens  it  that  he  who  is  said  to  enjoy  these  things  is 
so  commonly  a  poor  civihzed  man,  while  the  savage,  who  has 
them  not,  is  rich  as  a  savage .►^" 

Next  morning,  while  roaming  about  the  point,  I  discovered 
two  well-worn  game  trails  that,  converging  together,  led  directly 
to  the  extreme  outer  end  of  our  point.  The  tracks  were  the  wild 
animals'  highways  through  that  part  of  the  woods,  and  were 
used  by  them  when  they  desired  to  make  a  short  cut  across  that 
end  of  the  lake  by  way  of  a  neighbouring  island.  Worn  fairly 
smooth,  and  from  three  to  five  inches  in  depth,  by  from  eight 


74  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

to  ten  inches  in  width,  these  tracks  were  entirely  free  of  grass 
or  moss.  In  following  them  a  few  hundred  paces,  I  could 
plainly  recognize  the  prints  of  the  moose,  the  bear,  the  wolf,  and 
the  fox;  and  a  few  smaller  and  lesser  impressions  with  regard  to 
the  origin  of  which  I  was  not  so  sure.  The  trails  were  much 
like  the  buffalo  trails  one  used  to  see  upon  the  plains.  To  my 
dehght,  my  lodge  door  was  not  more  than  ten  paces  from  that 
wild  Broadway  of  the  Wilderness. 

INDIAN  POLITENESS 

After  breakfast  Oo-koo-hoo  suggested  that  a  "lop-stick" 
should  be  cut  in  honoiu*  of  the  white  man's  visit.  Selecting 
a  tall  spruce,  Amik,  with  a  half-axe  in  hand,  began  to  ascend  it. 
When  he  had  climbed  about  three  parts  of  the  way  up  he  began 
to  chop  off  the  surrounding  branches  and  continued  to  do  so  as 
he  descended,  until  he  was  about  halfway  down,  when  he 
desisted  and  came  to  earth.  The  result  was  a  strange-looking 
tree  with  a  long  bare  trunk,  surmounted  by  a  tuft  of  branches 
that  could  be  seen  and  recognized  for  miles  around. 

Cutting  lop-sticks  is  an  old  custom  of  the  forest  Indians. 
Such  trees  are  used  to  mark  portages,  camping  grounds,  meet- 
ing places,  or  dangerous  channels  where  submerged  rocks  he  in 
wait  for  the  unsuspecting  voyageur.  In  fact,  they  are  to  the 
Indian  what  hghthouses  are  to  the  mariner.  Yet,  sometimes 
they  are  used  to  celebrate  the  beginning  of  a  young  man's  hunt- 
ing career,  or  to  mark  the  grave  of  a  famous  hunter.  When 
made  to  indicate  a  wilderness  rendezvous,  the  meeting  place  is 
commonly  used  for  the  purpose  of  coming  in  contact  with  their 
nearest  neighbours  or  friends,  and  halting  a  day  or  so,  while 
upon  their  voyage  to  the  post,  in  order  to  discuss  their  affairs — 
the  winter's  hunt,  the  strange  tracks  they  have  seen,  the  strange 
sounds  they  have  heard,  the  raiding  of  their  hunting  ground, 
and  the  like.    Always  at  such  meetings  a  fire  is  kindled  regard- 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  75 

less  of  the  season,  an  ancient  custom  of  their  old  religion,  but 
used  to-day  more  for  «the  purpose  of  hghting  pipes.  Beside 
the  fire  a  post  stripped  of  its  bark  is  erected,  and  on  it  a  fire- 
bag  containing  tobacco  for  the  use  of  all  hands  is  hung.  Around 
the  fire  the  women  and  children  spread  a  carpet  of  brush, 
upon  which  the  men  sit  while  conversing.  At  such  meetings 
one  never  hears  two  Indians  talk  at  once — a  fine  example 
for  white  people  to  heed — ^nor  do  they  openly  contradict  one 
another  as  the  vulgar  white  man  does,  for  such  an  offence  would 
be  considered,  by  the  savage,  rude — and  the  offender  would  be 
regarded  as  no  better  than  a  white  man;  for  they  believe  them- 
selves to  be  not  only  the  wisest  and  the  bravest,  but  the  politest 
people  in  the  world; and  when  one  stops  to  compare  the  average 
Indian  with  the  average  white  man  in  North  America,  one  must 
grant  that  the  savage  is  right. 

In  relation  to  their  pohteness  I  can  go  beyond  my  own 
observation  and  quote  the  experience  of  Sir  Alexander  Henry — 
whom  they  called  Coseagon — ^while  he  was  held  a  prisoner. 

"I  could  not  let  all  this  pass  without  modestly  remarking 
that  his  account  of  the  beginning  of  things  was  subject  to 
great  uncertainty  as  being  trusted  to  memory  only,  from  woman 
to  woman  through  so  many  generations,  and  might  have  been 
greatly  altered,  whereas  the  account  I  gave  them  was  written 
down  by  direction  of  the  Great  Spirit  himseff  and  preserved 
carefully  in  a  book  which  was  never  altered,  but  had  ever  re- 
mained the  same  and  was  undoubtedly  the  truth.  *  Coseagon,' 
says  Canassatego,  *you  are  yet  almost  as  rude  as  when  you  first 
came  among  us.  When  young  it  seems  you  were  not  well 
taught;  you  did  not  learn  the  civil  behaviour  of  men.  We 
excused  you;  it  was  the  fault  of  your  instructors.  But  why 
have  you  not  more  improved  since  you  have  long  had  the 
opportunity  from  our  example?  You  see  I  always  believe 
your  stories.  That  is,  I  never  contradict  them.  Why  do  you 
not  beheve  mine.^'    Contradiction,  or  a  direct  denial  of  the 


76  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

truth  of  what  another  says,  is  among  the  Indians  deemed 
extremely  rude.  Only  great  superiority,  as  of  a  father  to  a 
child,  or  of  an  old  counsellor  to  some  boy,  can  excuse  it.  Ala- 
quippy  and  the  other  Indians  kindly  made  some  apology  for  me, 
saying  I  should  be  wiser  in  time,  and  they  concluded  with  an 
observation  which  they  thought  very  pohte  and  respectful 
toward  me,  that  my  stories  might  be  best  for  the  white  people, 
but  Indian  stories  were  undoubtedly  best  for  Indians." 

Furthermore,  if  we  compare  the  philosophy  of  the  red  man 
and  the  white,  we  find  that  just  because  the  white  man  has 
invented  a  lot  of  asinine  fashions  and  customs,  a  lot  of  im- 
necessary  gear  and  junk,  and  feeds  himself  on  unhealthy 
concoctions  that  give  him  indigestion  and  make  his  teeth  fall 
out,  he  flatters  himself  that  he  is  the  wisest  man  on  earth, 
whereas,  all  things  considered,  in  my  humble  opinion,  he  is  the 
prize  fool  of  the  universe — ^for  removing  himself  so  far  from 
nature.  And  when  the  female  follower  of  Dame  Fashion  goes 
mincing  along  the  cement-paved  street  in  her  sharp-toed, 
French-heeled  slippers,  on  her  way  to  the  factory,  she  flatters 
herself  that  she  knows  better  than  God  how  to  perfect  the  hu- 
man foot;  then  the  All  Wise  One,  in  His  just  wrath,  strikes  back 
at  her  by  presenting  her  with  a  luxuriant  crop  of  v£iricose  veins, 
corns,  ingrowing  nails,  faUen  arches,  and  bunions  that  supply 
her  with  suffering  in  plenty  for  the  rest  of  her  days.  Her 
red  sister,  on  the  contrary,  in  moccasined  feet,  walks  naturally 
through  the  forest;  and  The  Master  of  Life,  beholding  her 
becoming  humility,  rewards  her  with  painless  pleasure. 

But  to  return  to  the  Indians'  meeting  places  in  the  wilderness. 
The  important  meetings  held  in  the  forest  are  always  opened  by 
smoking.  No  man  speaks  without  first  standing  up,  and  his 
dehvery  is  always  slow  and  in  short,  clear  sentences.  In  the 
past  there  were  great  orators  among  the  red  men  as  many  of  the 
old  writers  and  traders  afl&rm — ^but  again  I  quote  Sir  Alexan- 
der Henry: 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  77 

"Old  Canassatego,  a  warrior,  counsellor,  and  the  chief  man  of 
our  village,  used  to  come  frequently  to  smoke  and  talk  with 
me,  while  I  worked  at  my  new  business  (mending  of  gim  locks), 
and  many  of  the  younger  men  would  come  and  sit  with  him, 
pleased  to  hear  our  conversations.  As  he  soon  saw  I  was  curi- 
ous on  that  head  he  took  a  good  deal  of  pains  to  instruct  me 
in  the  principles  of  their  eloquence,  an  art  (it  may  seem  strange 
to  say  it,  but  it  is  strictly  true)  carried  much  higher  among 
these  savages  than  is  now  in  any  part  of  Europe,  as  it  is  their 
only  poHte  art,  as  they  practice  it  from  their  infancy,  as  every- 
thing of  consequence  is  transacted  in  councils,  and  all  the  force 
of  their  government  consists  in  persuasion." 

Once  when  questioning  Oo-koo-hoo  regarding  old  Indian 
customs,  he  informed  me  that  among  Indians  bowing  was  a  very 
recent  innovation,  and  that  the  men  of  the  olden  time — the 
fire-worshippers  or  sun-worshippers — never  deigned  to  bow  to 
one  another:  they  bowed  to  none  but  the  Deity.  They  took 
not  the  Great  Spirit's  name  in  vain;  nor  did  they  mention  it 
save  in  a  whisper,  and  with  bowed  head.  He  regretted  that 
since  coming  in  contact  with  the  irreverent  and  blaspheming 
white  men,  his  people  had  lost  much  of  their  old-time  godly 
spirit. 

TRAPPING  EQUIPMENT 

For  the  next  few  days  the  work  done  by  the  men  was  con- 
fined to  odd  jobs  in  preparation  for  the  coining  winter,  and  the 
laying  out  of  their  future  trapping  trails.  They  built  some 
stages  upon  which  to  store  the  canoes,  and  others  nearer  the 
lodges,  upon  which  to  place  their  guns,  sleds,  and  snowshoes. 
They  cut  and  shaved  axe-handles  and  helved  them.  They 
overhauled  traps,  and  got  ready  all  their  trapping  gear.  It 
was  always  interesting  to  watch  Oo-koo-hoo  and  Amik,  even 
when  they  were  engaged  upon  the  most  trivial  forest  work,  for 
much  of  it  was  new  to  me  and  it  was  all  so  different  from  the 


78  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

ways  of  civilization.  Then,  too,  they  had  taken  the  boys  in 
hand  and  were  instructing  them  in  relation  to  the  hunter's  art. 

The  first  thing  they  did  with  the  traps,  after  seeing  that  the 
old  ones  were  in  working  order,  was  to  boil  both  the  new  ones 
and  the  old  ones  for  about  half  an  hour  in  pots  in  which  was 
placed  either  pine,  or  spruce,  or  cedar  brush.  This  they  did — 
Oo-koo-hoo  explained — to  cleanse  the  old  traps  and  to  soften 
the  temper  of  the  new  ones,  thus  lessening  the  chances  of  their 
breaking  in  zero  weather;  and  also  to  free  both  old  and  new 
from  all  man-smell  and  to  perfume  them  with  the  natural  scent 
of  the  forest  trees,  of  which  no  animal  is  afraid.  The  traps  they 
used  were  the  No.  1,  "Rat,"  for  muskrats,  ermines,  and  minks; 
the  No.  2,  "Mink,"  for  minks,  martens,  skunks,  and  foxes;  the 
No.  3,  "Fox,"for  foxes,  minks,  martens,  fishers,  wolves,  wolver- 
ines, skunks,  otters,  and  beavers;  the  No. 4,  "Beaver,"  for  beav- 
ers, otters,  wolves,  wolverines,  and  fishers;  the  No.  5,  "Otter," 
for  otters,  beavers,  wolves,  wolverines,  and  small  bears;  and  the 
"Bear"  trap  in  two  sizes — A,  large,  and  B,  small,  for  all  kinds 
of  bears  and  deer.  Traps  with  teeth  they  did  not  use,  as  they 
said  the  teeth  injured  the  fur. 

Next  to  the  knife,  the  woodsman  uses  no  more  useful  imple- 
ment than  the  axe.  Even  with  the  professional  hunter,  the 
gun  takes  third  place  to  the  knife  and  the  axe.  As  between  the 
two  makes  of  axes — the  American  and  the  Canadian — the  for- 
mer appears  the  best.  It  is  really  a  good  fair-weather  axe,  but 
winter  work  proves  the  superiority  of  the  Canadian  implement. 
The  latter  does  not  chip  so  readily  in  cold  weather.  Further- 
more, the  eye  of  the  American  axe  is  too  small  for  the  soft-wood 
helve  usually  made  in  the  northern  forest,  since  in  many  parts 
no  wood  harder  than  birch  is  to  be  had.  But  to  reduce  the  high 
temper  of  the  American  axe,  the  hunter  can  heat  the  head  in  fire 
imtil  it  becomes  a  slight  bluish  tinge  and  then  dip  it  in  either  fish 
oil  or  beaver  oil.  The  sizes  of  axes  run:  "Trappers,"  Ij  lbs.; 
" Voyageurs, " 2l lbs.,  " Chopping, " 3|lbs., and " Felling, " 4 lbs. 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  79 

At  last  the  eventful  morning  arrived.  Now  we  were  to  go 
a-hunting.  The  trap-setting  party  was  to  be  composed  of  four 
persons:  Oo-koo-hoo,  the  two  boys,  and  myself.  Our  ne-mar- 
win — provisions — for  four,  to  last  a  week,  consisted  of:  one 
pound  of  tea,  eight  poimds  of  dried  meat,  four  pounds  of 
grease,  four  pounds  of  dried  fish,  and  a  number  of  small  ban- 
nocks; the  rest  of  our  grub  was  to  be  secured  by  hunting. 

Of  course,  while  hunting,  Oo-koo-hoo  always  carried  his  gun 
loaded — lacking  the  cap — but  it  was  charged  with  nothing 
heavier  than  powder  and  shot,  so  that  the  hunter  might  be 
ready  at  any  moment  for  small  game;  yet  if  he  encountered 
big  game,  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  ram  down  a  ball,  shp  on  a  cap, 
and  then  be  ready  to  fire  at  a  moose  or  a  bear. 

SETTING  FOX  TRAP 

After  the  usual  affectionate  good-bye,  and  the  waving  of 
farewell  as  we  moved  in  single  file  into  the  denser  forest,  we 
followed  a  game  trail  that  wound  in  and  out  among  the  trees 
and  rocks — always  along  the  line  of  least  resistance — and  for  a 
while  headed  westward  through  the  valley  of  Muskrat  Creek. 
Oo-koo-hoo  led  the  way  and,  as  he  walked  along,  would  oc- 
casionally turn  and,  pointing  at  the  trail,  whisper: 

"My  white  son,  see,  a  moose  passed  two  days  ago  .  .  • 
That's  fox — this  morning,"  and  when  we  were  overlooking  the 
stream,  he  remarked:  "This  is  a  good  place  for  muskrats,  but 
ril  come  for  them  by  canoe." 

The  principal  object  of  the  trip  was  to  set  fox  and  marten 
traps.  Hilly  timberland  of  spruce  or  pine,  without  much 
brushwood,  is  the  most  likely  place  for  martens;  and  in  fairly 
open  country  foxes  may  be  found.  The  favourite  haunt  of 
beavers,  otters,  fishers,  minks,  and  muskrats  is  a  marshy  region 
containing  little  lakes  and  streams;  while  for  lynxes,  a  willowy 
valley  interspersed  with  poplars  is  the  usual  resort. 


80  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

Coming  to  an  open  space  along  the  creek,  the  wise  old  Owl 
concluded  from  the  fox  signs  he  had  already  seen,  and  from  the 
condition  of  the  soil  on  a  cut  bank,  that  it  was  a  desirable  place 
in  which  to  set  a  steel  trap  for  foxes.  Laying  aside  his  kit, 
he  put  on  his  trapping  mits,  to  prevent  any  trace  of  man-smell 
being  left  about  the  trap,  and  with  the  aid  of  his  trowel  he 
dug  into  the  bank  a  horizontal  hole  about  two  feet  deep  and 
about  a  foot  in  diameter.  He  wedged  the  chain-ring  of  the  trap 
over  the  small  end  of  a  five-foot  pole  to  be  used  as  a  clog  or 
drag-anchor  in  case  the  fox  tried  to  make  away  with  the  trap. 
The  pole  was  then  buried  at  one  side  of  the  hole.  Digging  a 
trench  from  the  pole  to  the  back  of  the  hole,  he  carefully  set 
the  trap,  laid  it  in  the  trench  near  the  back  of  the  hole,  so  that 
it  rested  about  half  an  inch  below  the  surface  of  the  surround- 
ing earth,  covered  it  with  thin  layers  of  birch  bark  (sewed 
together  with  watap — thin  spruce  roots)  then,  sifting  earth  over 
it,  covered  all  signs  of  both  trap  and  chain,  and  finally,  with  a 
crane's  wing  brushed  the  saad  into  natural  form.  Placing  at 
the  back  of  the  hole  a  duck's  head  that  Ne-geek  had  shot  for 
the  purpose,  Oo-koo-hoo  scattered  a  few  feathers  about.  Some 
of  these,  as  well  as  the  pan  of  the  trap,  had  been  previously 
daubed  with  a  most  stinking  concoction  called  "fox  bait" — 
hereafter  called  "mixed  bait"  to  prevent  confusing  this  with 
other  baits. 

It  was  composed  of  half  a  pound  of  soft  grease,  half  an 
ounce  of  aniseed,  an  eighth  of  an  ounce  of  asafcetida,  six  to 
ten  rotten  birds'  eggs,  and  the  glands  taken  from  a  female  fox — 
all  thoroughly  mixed  in  a  jar  and  then  buried  imderground  to 
rot  it,  as  well  as  for  safe  keeping.  The  reason  for  such  a  con- 
coction is  that  the  cold  in  winter  does  not  affect  the  stench  of 
asafoetida;  aniseed  forms  a  strong  attraction  for  many  kinds  of 
animals;  foxes  are  fond  of  eggs;  and  no  stronger  lure  exists  for 
an  animal  than  the  smell  of  the  female  gland.  So  powerful  is 
the  fetor  of  this  "mixed  bait,"  and  so  dehcious  is  the  merest 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  81 

whiff  of  it,  that  it  forms  not  only  an  irresistible  but  a  long- 
range  allurement  for  many  kinds  of  fur-bearers.  Indeed,  so 
pungent  was  it,  that  Oo-koo-hoo  carried  merely  a  little  of  it 
in  a  cap-box,  and  found  that  a  tiny  daub  was  quite  sufficient 
to  do  his  work.  The  reason  for  using  the  two  kinds  of  bait 
was  that  while  the  mixed  bait  would  attract  the  animal  to  the 
trap  by  its  scent,  the  sight  of  the  duck's  head  would  induce  the 
fox  to  enter  the  hole,  step  upon  the  unseen  trap  while  reaching 
to  secure  its  favourite  food,  and  thus  be  caught  by  a  foreleg. 

The  mention  of  an  animal  being  caught  by  a  foreleg  reminds 
me  of  the  strange  experience  that  Louison  Laferte,  a  French 
half-breed,  manservant  at  Fort  Rae,  once  had  with  a  wolf. 
Louison  was  quite  a  wag  and  at  all  times  loved  a  joke.  One 
day  while  visiting  one  of  his  trapping  paths  with  his  four-dog 
team  he  came  upon  a  wolf  caught  in  one  of  his  traps  by  the 
foreleg.  After  stunning  the  brute,  he  found  that  its  leg  was  in 
no  way  injured,  for  it  had  been  in  the  trap  but  a  short  time. 
Louison,  in  a  sudden  fit  of  frolic  humour,  unharnessed  his  Num- 
ber 3  dog  and  harnessed  in  its  place  the  unconscious  wolf. 
When  the  wild  brute  came  to,  and  leaped  up,  the  half-breed 
shouted:  '' Ma-a-r-r-che!''  and  whipped  up  his  dogs.  Off  they 
went,  the  two  leading  dogs  puUing  the  wolf  along  from  in 
front,  while  the  sled-dog  nipped  him  from  behind  and  en- 
couraged him  to  go  ahead.  Thus  into  Fort  Rae  drove  the  gay 
Louison  with  an  untamed  timber-woff  in  harness  actually  help- 
ing to  haul  his  sled  as  one  of  his  dog-team.  The  haff-breed 
kept  the  wolf  for  more  than  a  month  trying  to  train  it,  but  it 
proved  so  intractable  and  so  vicious  that  fearing  for  the  children 
around  the  Post,  eventually  he  killed  it. 

DOG  TRAILING  FOX 

It  is  generally  conceded  by  the  most  experienced  fur-hunters 
of  the  northern  forest,  that  while  the  wolverine  is  a  crafty  brute 


82  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

and  difficult  to  hunt,  yet  of  all  forest  creatures  the  coloured  fox 
is  the  hardest  to  trap.  In  hunting  the  two  animals  with  dogs, 
however,  there  is  httle  comparison.  The  wolverine,  being  a 
heavy,  short-legged  beast,  can  soon  be  overhauled  in  an  open 
country  or  on  a  beaten  trail  by  a  dog,  or  in  deep  snow  even  by 
a  man  on  snowshoes;  while  the  chances  of  a  fox  being  run  down 
by  a  dog  are  not  so  good.  Some  hunters,  however,  kill  many 
foxes  by  running  them  down  with  dogs,  and  for  such  work 
they  use  a  hght-weight,  long-legged  dog  possessed  of  both  long 
sight  and  keen  scent.  Hunters  declare  that  no  animal,  not 
even  the  wolf,  has  so  much  endurance  as  a  good  hunting-dog. 

When  a  hunting-dog  sights  a  fox  on  a  frozen  lake  he  runs 
straight  for  him.  The  fox,  on  realizing  that  he  is  being  pur- 
sued, leaps  wildly  into  the  air  two  or  three  times,  and  then 
makes  off  at  tremendous  speed — ^much  faster  than  the  dog  can 
run.  But  in  about  half  a  mile  the  fox,  becoming  played  out, 
stops  to  rest  a  moment  and  to  look  around  to  see  if  the  dog  is 
still  following.  Then,  on  seeing  the  dog  still  in  pursuit,  he 
sets  off  in  another  great  burst  of  speed.  Meanwhile,  the  dog 
has  gained  on  him,  and  the  fox,  discovering  this,  bolts  off  at 
a  different  angle.  The  dog,  however,  observing  what  has 
happened,  takes  advantage  of  his  quarry,  and  cuts  the  corner 
and  thereby  makes  another  gain.  The  fox,  now  more  alarmed 
than  ever,  makes  another  turn,  and  the  dog  cuts  another  corner 
and  makes  another  gain.  Thus  the  race  goes  on  until  the  fox 
comes  to  the  conclusion  that  the  dog  is  sure  to  get  him,  loses 
both  heart  and  wind  and  finally  lies  down  from  sheer  exhaus- 
tion. The  dog  rushes  at  him,  seizes  him  between  the  forelegs, 
and  with  one  crunch  the  hunt  is  over. 

It  is  much  the  same  in  the  deep  snow  of  the  timberland. 
There  the  fox  will  start  off  with  great  bounds  that  sink  him  deep 
into  the  snow  and  make  the  scent  only  the  stronger  for  the 
dog.  Meanwhile,  the  dog  lopes  steadily  along,  though  far 
out  of  sight.    The  fox  stops  to  Hsten  and  learn  if  his  enemy  is 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  83 

still  pursuing  him.  When  the  dog  finally  comes  into  view,  the 
fox  changes  his  course,  and  the  dog  cuts  the  comer,  and  thus 
the  story  ends  in  the  usual  way. 

OTHER  WAYS  OF  TRAPPING 

As  the  methods  of  hunting  the  wolf,  the  marten,  the  lynx, 
and  the  wolverine  are  founded  on  the  various  ways  of  trapping 
the  fox,  a  full  description  of  how  foxes  are  hunted  may  be  of 
interest.  Then,  too,  the  reader  will  be  enabled  to  understand 
more  easily,  without  unnecessary  repetition,  the  modes  of 
trapping  other  animals.  My  description,  however,  will  apply 
only  to  the  hunting  of  the  crafty  coloured  foxes  of  the  forest, 
and  not  to  their  stupid  brethren  of  the  Arctic  coasts — the  white 
and  the  blue  foxes. 

Of  course,  every  Indian  tribe  believes  its  own  manner  of 
hunting  to  be  the  master  way,  but  it  is  conceded  by  experi- 
enced fur-traders  that  the  Ojibway  method  is  the  best.  When 
setting  a  fox  trap  in  the  winter  time,  the  first  thing  an  Ojibway 
does  is  to  jab  into  the  snow,  small  end  down,  and  in  an  upright 
position,  the  clog  or  drag-pole.  With  his  knife  he  then  cuts 
a  hole  in  the  snow  exactly  the  size  of  the  set  trap,  the  plate 
of  which  has  already  been  daubed  with  mixed  bait.  In  this 
hole  the  trap  is  placed  in  such  a  position  that  it  rests  about 
half  an  inch  below  the  surface  of  the  snow.  A  thin  shield  of 
birch  bark  covers  this,  and  then  with  a  crane's  wing  the  snow  is 
brushed  over  both  trap  and  chain  so  that  no  sign  remains. 
Then  in  addition  to  the  mixed  bait,  he  plants  about  the  spot 
food  bait,  such  as  bits  of  rotten  fish  or  duck. 

Most  hunters  have  a  regular  system  for  setting  their  traps 
so  that  they  may  know  exactly  where  and  how  they  are  placed. 
Usually  he  sets  them  east  and  west,  then  cutting  a  notch 
on  a  branch — about  a  foot  from  the  butt — he  measures  that 
distance  from  the  trap,  and  thrusts  the  branch  into  the  snow 


84  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

in  an  upright  position,  as  though  it  were  growing  naturally. 
The  stick  serves  not  only  to  mark  the  trap,  but  in  an  open 
space  to  furnish  the  same  attraction  for  a  fox  as  a  tree  does  for 
a  dog;  besides,  when  the  hunter  is  going  his  rounds,  at  the  sight 
of  the  branch  he  will  remember  where  and  how  his  trap  is  set, 
and  can  read  all  the  signs  without  going  too  near.  The  object 
of  laying  the  sheet  of  birch  bark  over  the  trap  is  that  when  any 
part  of  the  bark  is  touched  the  trap  may  go  off;  besides,  it 
forms  a  hollow  space  beneath,  and  thus  allows  the  animars 
foot  to  sink  deeper  into  the  trap,  to  be  caught  farther  up,  and 
to  be  held  more  securely. 

The  foregoing  is  the  usual  way  of  setting  a  fox  trap,  yet  the 
Wood  Crees  and  the  Swampy  Crees  set  their  fox  traps  on 
mounds  of  snow  about  the  size  of  muskrat  houses.  For  that 
purpose  they  bank  the  snow  into  a  mound  about  eighteen  inches 
high,  bury  the  drag-pole  at  the  bottom,  set  the  trap  exactly  in 
the  crest  of  the  mound,  and,  covering  up  all  traces  of  trap  and 
chain  with  powdered  snow,  sprinkle  food  bait  and  mixed  bait 
around  the  bottom  of  the  mound.  The  approaching  fox, 
catching  scent  of  the  mixed  bait,  follows  it  up  and  then  eats 
some  of  the  food  bait,  which  presently  gives  him  the  desire  to 
go  and  sit  upon  the  mound — ^which  is  the  habit  of  foxes  in  such 
a  condition — and  thus  he  is  caught. 

A  ciu'ious  thing  once  happened  to  a  Dog-rib  Indian  at  Great 
Slave  Lake.  One  day  he  found  a  wolf  caught  in  one  of  his  traps 
and  fooHshly  allowed  his  hunting-dog  to  rush  at  it.  The  wolf 
leaped  about  so  furiously  that  it  broke  the  trap  chain,  and  ran 
out  upon  the  lake,  too  far  for  the  hunter's  gun.  In  pursuit  of 
the  wolf,  the  dog  drew  too  near  and  was  seized  and  overpowered 
by  the  wolf.  In  order  to  save  his  dog  the  hunter  rushed  out 
upon  the  lake;  and  when  within  fair  range,  dropped  upon  one 
knee  and  fired.  Unluckily,  the  ball  struck  the  trap,  smashed  it, 
and  set  the  wolf  free;  emd  all  the  himter  got  for  his  pains  was 
a  dead  dog  and  a  broken  trap — ^while  the  wolf  went  scot  free. 


^''■^^*:  ^^w^-v<^fc<;l^f3^^T^?5f^  ^   /, 


Minutes  passed  while  the  rising  moon  cast  golden  ripples  upon 
the  water  and  two  tteavers,  rising  from  below,  swam  toward  and 
mounted  the  roof  of  their  island  home.  A  twig  snapping  behind  the 
hunter,  he  turned  his  head,  and  as  he  caught  the  vanishing  glimpse 
of  a  lynx  in  a  tree,  he  was  instantly  startled  by  a  tremendous  report 
and  a  splashing  upheaval     .     .     ,     See  Chapter  II 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  85 

The  Chipewyan  and  Slave  Indians  set  their  traps  inside 
a  lodge  made  of  eight  or  ten  poles,  seven  or  eight  feet  in  length, 
placed  together  lodge  fashion  and  banked  round  with  a  wall  of 
brush  to  prevent  the  fox  entering  except  by  the  doorway.  The 
trap  is  set  in  the  usual  way,  just  outside  the  entrance,  the  chain 
being  fastened  to  one  of  the  door  poles.  Instead,  however, 
of  being  placed  on  the  snow  around  the  trap,  the  mixed  bait  is 
put  on  a  bit  of  rabbit  skin  fastened  in  the  centre  of  the  lodge; 
the  idea  being  that  the  fox  will  step  on  the  trap  when  he  en- 
deavours to  enter.  The  Louchieux  Indian  sets  his  trap  the 
foregoing  way,  but  in  addition  he  sets  a  snare  in  the  doorway  of 
the  lodge,  not  so  much  to  catch  and  hold  the  fox,  as  to  check  him 
from  leaping  in  without  treading  on  the  trap. 

Oo-koo-hoo  told  me  that  whenever  a  trap  set  in  the  usual 
way  had  failed  to  catch  a  fox,  he  then  tried  to  take  advantage 
of  the  cautious  and  suspicious  nature  of  the  animal  by  casting 
about  on  the  snow  Httle  bits  of  iron,  and  re-setting  and  covering 
his  trap  on  the  crest  of  some  Uttle  mound  close  at  hand  without 
any  bait  whatever.  The  fox,  returning  to  the  spot  where  he 
had  scented  and  seen  the  bait  before,  would  now  scent  the  iron, 
and  becoming  puzzled  over  the  mystery  would  try  to  solve  it 
by  going  to  the  top  of  the  mound  to  sit  down  and  think  it  over; 
and  thus  he  would  be  caught. 

Another  way  to  try  for  a  fox  that  has  been  nipped  in  a  trap 
and  yet  has  got  away  is  to  take  into  account  the  strange  fact 
that  the  animal  will  surely  come  back  to  investigate  the 
source  of  the  trouble.  The  hunter  re-sets  the  trap  in  its  old 
position  and  in  the  usual  way;  then,  a  short  distance  off,  he 
builds  a  Uttle  brush  tepee,  something  like  a  lynx-lodge,  which 
has  a  base  of  about  four  feet,  and  by  means  of  a  snare  fastened 
to  a  tossing-pole,  he  hangs  a  rabbit  with  its  hind  feet  about  six 
inches  above  the  snow.  A  mixed-bait  stick  is  placed  a  Kttle 
farther  back,  in  order  to  attract  the  fox,  while  another  trap  is 
set  just  below  the  rabbit.    The  idea  of  re-setting  the  first  trap 


86  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

in  the  old  position  is  to  put  the  fox  off  his  guard  when  he  ap- 
proaches the  dead  rabbit  hanging  in  the  snare.  As,  no  doubt, 
he  has  seen  a  rabbit  hang  many  times  before,  and  snares  so 
baited  he  has  often  robbed.  The  Indian  in  his  extreme  care 
to  avoid  communicating  man-smell  to  the  rabbit  will  even 
remain  to  leeward  of  it  while  he  handles  it,  lest  man-scent 
should  blow  against  the  rabbit  and  adhere  to  the  fur.  If  that 
happened,  the  fox  would  be  so  suspicious  that  he  would  not  go 
near  the  rabbit. 

But  to  illustrate  how  stupid  the  white  fox  of  the  Arctic  coast 
is  in  comparison  with  the  coloured  fox  of  the  forest,  the  following 
story  is  worth  repeating.  It  happened  near  Fort  Churchill  on 
the  northwest  coast  of  Hudson  Bay.  The  trader  at  the  post 
had  given  a  certain  Eskimo  a  spoon-bait,  or  spoon-hook,  the 
first  he  had  ever  seen;  and  as  he  thought  it  a  very  wonderful 
thing,  he  always  carried  it  about  with  him.  The  next  fall,  while 
going  along  the  coast,  he  saw  a  pack  of  white  foxes  approaching, 
and  having  with  him  neither  a  trap  nor  a  gun,  he  thought 
of  his  spoon-hook.  Tearing  a  rag  off  his  shirt,  he  rubbed  on  it 
some  porpoise  oil  which  he  was  carrying  in  a  bladder,  fastened 
the  rag  about  the  hook,  laid  it  on  a  log  directly  in  the  path  of 
the  approaching  foxes,  and,  going  to  the  end  of  the  hue,  lay  down 
out  of  sight  to  watch  what  would  happen.  When  the  foxes 
drew  near,  one  of  them  seized  the  bait,  and  the  Eskimo,  jerking 
the  line,  caught  the  fox  by  the  tongue.  In  that  way  the  native 
caught  six  foxes  before  he  returned  to  the  post;  but  then,  as 
everyone  in  the  Far  North  knows,  white  foxes  are  proverbially 
stupid  creatures. 

The  more  expert  the  hunter,  the  more  pride  he  takes  in  his 
work.  Before  leaving  a  trap,  he  will  examine  its  surroundings 
carefully  and  decide  from  which  angle  he  wishes  the  animal 
to  approach;  then  by  arranging  cut  brush  in  a  natural  way  in 
the  snow  he  will  block  all  other  approaches,  and  thus  compel 
the  unsuspecting  fox  to  carry  out  his  wishes. 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  87 

When  a  fox  springs  a  trap  without  being  caught,  he  rarely 
pauses  to  eat  the  bait,  but  leaps  away  in  fright.  The  hunter, 
however,  knowing  that  the  fox  will  soon  return,  not  only 
leaves  the  trap  as  the  fox  left  it,  but  sets  another  trap,  or  even 
two  more,  without  bait,  close  to  the  first,  where  he  thinks  the 
fox  will  tread  when  he  makes  his  second  visit.  If  that  fails, 
he  will  trace  the  fox's  trail  to  where  it  passes  between  thick 
brush  and  there  he  will  set  a  trap  in  the  usual  way,  but  without 
bait,  right  in  the  fox's  track.  Then  he  will  cut  brush  and  shore 
up  the  natural  bushes  in  such  a  way  that,  no  other  opening 
being  left,  the  fox  must  return  by  his  own  track,  and  run  the 
chance  of  being  caught.  Should  that  method  also  fail,  the 
hunter  will  set  another  trap  in  the  trail  close  to  the  first,  in  the 
hope  that  if  one  trap  does  not  catch  the  fox,  the  next  will. 

Another  device  is  to  break  a  bit  of  glass  into  tiny  sHvers  which 
the  hunter  mixes  with  grease  and  forms  into  Kttle  tablets  that 
he  leaves  on  the  snow.  If  the  fox  scents  them,  the  chances 
are  that  he  will  swallow  each  tablet  at  a  single  gulp.  Presently 
he  will  feel  a  pain  in  his  stomach.  At  first  this  will  cause  him 
to  leap  about,  but  as  his  sufferings  will  only  increase,  he  will  He 
down  for  an  hour  or  so.  When  he  finally  rises  to  move  away,  he 
will  feel  the  pain  again.  Once  more  he  will  he  down,  and  the 
chances  are  that  he  will  remain  there  until  found  either  dead  or 
aUve  by  the  hunter. 

FASHIONABLE   FOOLS 

If  my  readers,  especially  my  women  readers,  should  feel 
regret  at  the  great  suffering  resulting  from  fur-hunting,  they 
should  recall  to  mind  its  chief  contributory  cause — those  devo- 
tees of  fashionable  civihzation  who  mince  around  during  the 
sweltering  days  of  July  and  August  in  furs.  The  mere  thought 
of  them  once  so  filled  with  wrath  a  former  acting  Prime  Minister 
of  Canada — Sir  George  Foster — that  he  lost  his  usual  flow  of 


88  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

suave  and  classic  oratory,  and  rearing  up,  roared  out  in  the 
House  of  Parliament:  "Such  women  get  my  goat!" 

Truly,  there  is  much  suffering  in  the  wilderness,  especially 
on  account  of  civilization;  but  if  my  readers  will  be  patient 
enough  to  wade  through  these  few  paragraphs  of  pain,  they  may 
later  on  find  enough  novelty,  beauty,  and  charm  in  the  forest 
to  reward  them  for  reading  on  to  the  end. 

But  to  return  to  foxes — they  are  much  given  to  playing  dead. 
Once,  while  traveUing  in  Athabasca  with  Caspar  Whitney, 
the  noted  American  writer  on  Sport  and  Travel,  we  came  upon 
a  black  fox  caught  in  a  steel  trap.  One  of  our  dog-drivers 
stunned  it  and  covered  it  with  a  mound  of  snow  in  order  to 
protect  its  pelt  from  other  animals,  so  that  when  the  unknown 
trapper  came  along  he  would  find  his  prize  in  good  order. 
Three  days  later,  when  I  passed  that  way,  the  fox  was  sitting 
upon  the  mound  of  snow,  and  was  as  ahve  as  when  first  seen. 
This  time,  however,  my  half-breed  made  sure  by  first  hitting 
the  fox  on  the  snout  to  stun  it,  and  then  gently  pressing  his 
moccasined  foot  over  its  heart  until  it  was  dead — the  proper 
way  of  kiUing  small  fur-bearing  animals  without  either  injuring 
the  fur  or  inflicting  unnecessary  pain. 

CoHn  Campbell,  a  half-breed  at  York  Factory,  once  had 
a  different  experience.  He  had  been  on  a  visit  to  an  Indian 
camp  with  his  dog-train  and  on  his  way  back  found  a  white 
fox  in  one  of  his  traps.  He  stunned  it  in  the  usual  way  and 
pressed  his  foot  over  its  heart;  and  when  he  was  sure  it  was 
dead,  placed  it  inside  his  sled-wrapper  and  drove  home.  On 
arriving  at  the  Fort  he  uohitched  his  sled  from  the  dogs,  and 
leaviQg  them  harnessed,  pulled  his  sled,  still  containing  its  load, 
into  the  trading  room;  where,  upon  opening  the  wrapper  to 
remove  the  load,  the  fox  leaped  out  and,  as  the  door  was 
closed,  bolted  in  fright  straight  through  the  window,  carrying 
the_glass  with  it,  and  escaped  before  the  dogs  could  be  released 
from  their  harness. 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  89 

There  are,  however,  other  ways  of  catching  the  fox.  One 
is  to  chop  a  hole  in  the  ice  on  a  river  or  lake,  fill  the  hole  with 
water  and  place  in  it  a  "hung"  white-fish,  in  such  a  position 
that,  when  the  water  freezes,  about  one  third  of  the  fish  will 
protrude  above  the  ice.  Then  in  the  usual  way,  but  without 
bait  or  sign,  set  one  or  two  traps  near  the  fish.  When  the 
fox  arrives,  he  may  succeed  in  eating  the  fish's  head,  but 
when  he  tries  to  dig  the  rest  of  the  fish  out  of  the  ice,  he  will 
become  too  interested  to  remain  cautious,  and  in  shifting  his 
place  of  stance  will  soon  be  taken  prisoner.  But  sometimes 
a  knowing  old  fox  will  first  dig  about  in  the  snow,  and  on 
finding  the  trap,  will  thereafter  be  able  to  eat  the  fish  in  safety. 

Mention  of  the  fish  bait  recalls  what  strange  things  occa- 
sionally happen  in  relation  to  hunting.  A  half-breed  hunter, 
named  Pierre  Geraud,  hving  near  Fort  Isle  a  la  Crosse,  in 
laying  out  his  trapping  trail  one  winter,  had  set  one  of  his 
mink  deadfalls  in  a  swamp  close  to  the  water-line;  and  on  visit- 
ing the  trap  after  the  spring  flood,  found  a  large  pike  caught  in 
it.  All  the  signs  showed  that  when  the  flood  had  been  at  its 
height  the  fish  had  been  swimming  about,  and  on  discovering 
the  bait  set  for  mink  had  seized  it,  and  in  trying  to  make  away 
with  it  had  set  off  the  trap,  the  heavy  drop-log  faUing  and 
killing  the  fish. 

When  I  expressed  surprise  that  an  animal  should  have  in- 
telligence enough  not  only  to  find  a  buried  trap,  but  to  dig 
it  up  and  then  spring  it  without  being  caught,  Oo-koo-hoo 
explained  that  it  was  not  so  much  a  matter  of  animal  in- 
telligence as  of  man's  stupidity;  for  whenever  that  happened  it 
did  not  prove  to  the  animal's  credit,  but  to  man's  discredit; 
the  careless  hunter  having  simply  left  enough  man-smell  on  the 
trap  to  form  a  guide  that  told  the  animal  exactly  where  the  trap 
lay.  Then,  the  overwhelming  curiosity  of  the  fox  had  com- 
pelled it  to  investigate  the  mystery  by  digging  it  up,  and  when 
found,  the  fox  in  its  usual  way  would  play  with  the  strange 


90  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

object;  just  as  a  domestic  kitten  would  do,  and  so  the  fox  would 
set  off  the  trap. 

THE  LAST  RESORT 

On  my  first  trips  into  the  forest,  whenever  I  questioned 
an  Indian  hunter  as  to  the  cause  of  this  or  that,  the  complete- 
ness of  his  graphic  explanation  always  puzzled  me;  for  I  could 
not  understand  how  it  was  that  when  he  was  not  an  eye- 
witness, he  knew  all  the  details  of  the  affair  as  well  as  though 
the  dead  animal  itseff  had  told  him  the  full  story.  But  when  I, 
too,  began  to  study  Nature's  book  on  woodcraft,  it  amazed  me 
no  longer;  for  then  I  realized  that  to  those  who  had  studied 
enough  it  was  easy  to  read  the  drama  of  the  forest;  especially 
in  the  winter,  for  then  Nature  never  fails  to  record  it,  and 
every  story  is  always  published  just  where  it  happens.  Even 
to  those  who  have  not  taken  the  Indian  degree  in  woodcraft, 
it  is  not  difficult  to  read  in  winter  time  the  annals  of  animal 
life  in  the  forest,  for  then  Natiu-e  describes  with  ample  detail 
many  an  interesting  story.  In  winter  time,  too,  even  a  bhnd 
Indian  can  follow  a  trail  of  which  a  town-bred  man  with  normal 
sight  could  see  no  trace. 

If  his  steel  traps  fail,  the  Indian  may  resort  to  still  another 
method — the  gun  trap — regardless  of  the  fact  that  this  may 
lessen  the  value  of  the  animal's  pelt.  A  gun,  first  carefully 
cleaned  and  loaded  with  the  exception  of  the  cap,  is  placed  in 
a  nearly  horizontal  position  about  two  feet  above  the  snow  and 
lashed  securely  to  two  posts;  the  barrel  slanting  downward  to 
a  point  about  a  foot  in  height  and  eight  feet  away.  At  that 
precise  spot  the  bait  stick  is  so  fixed  that  when  the  fox  seizes  the 
bait,  its  head  will  be  directly  in  line  with  the  gun-barrel.  Fas- 
tened to  the  bait  by  one  end  will  be  a  thong,  the  other  end  of 
which  will  be  attached  to  the  trigger,  and  will  discharge  the  gun 
when  the  bait  is  seized.    When  all  is  in  readiness,  the  cap  is 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  91 

put  on  the  nipple,  and  a  birch-bark  shelter  arranged  to  keep 
the  gun-lock  free  from  falling  snow.  Brush  is  then  placed  in 
the  snow  in  such  a  way  that  it  will  cause  the  fox  to  approach 
from  only  one  direction,  and  that  the  one  the  hunter  desires. 
It  is  not  a  good  trap,  being  very  uncertain,  as  whiskey-jacks, 
ermine,  mice,  or  rabbits  may  meddle  with  it,  and  set  it  oflF.  It 
is  seldom  used  except  for  wolverine. 

Frequently  the  value  an  Indian  places  upon  a  certain  pelt 
is  determined  not  according  to  its  quaUty,  but  according  to 
the  trouble  the  animal  caused  him  in  securing  it,  and  for  that 
reason  he  will  sometimes  expect  more  for  a  red  fox  pelt  than 
for  the  skin  of  a  beautiful  black  fox.  Then,  in  order  to  retain 
the  Indian's  goodwill,  the  experienced  trader  will  humour  him 
by  giving  the  price  asked,  and  count  on  making  up  his  loss  in 
another  way. 

In  hunting  fur-bearers  poison  should  never  be  used,  since  it 
bleaches  the  fur  and  thus  reduces  its  value.  Moreover,  it  is 
apt  to  kill  in  an  almost  endless  chain  many  forest  creatures 
besides  the  animal  sought,  as  they  may  feed  on  the  first  victim 
to  the  deadly  drug. 

The  hunter's  last  resort  in  trapping  the  coloured  fox  is  to  set  a 
snare  for  him.  In  setting  a  snare  the  Chipewyan  and  northern 
Indians  always  use  a  tossing-pole,  while  most  of  the  southern 
and  eastern  Indians  use  a  spring-pole;  the  difference  being 
that  a  tossing-pole  is  usually  made  by  bending  down  a  small 
tree — the  size  of  the  tree  being  determined  by  the  size  of  the 
game — to  the  top  of  which  is  fastened  the  snare;  or  the  tossing- 
pole  may  be  made  by  cutting  a  pole  for  that  purpose.  The 
result,  however,  being  that  the  moment  the  snare  is  sprung  the 
tossing-pole  flies  free,  and  hauhng  the  game  into  the  air,  holds 
it  there  out  of  reach  of  other  animals  that  might  rob  the  hunter 
of  his  prize.  A  spring-pole  is  made  by  setting  a  springy  pole 
in  such  a  position  that  when  the  snare  is  sprung,  the  tension  is 
released,  and  the  pole,  springing  up,  hauls  the  animal  against 


92  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

a  stationary  bar  set  horizontally  above  the  loop  of  the  snare, 
and  holds  the  quarry  there.  Many  kinds  of  animals  are  caught 
with  snares,  and  in  size  they  run  all  the  way  from  rabbits  to 
bears  and  even  to  the  great  bull-moose. 

HUNTER   CAUGHT  IN  SNARE 

Snares,  steel  traps,  and  deadfalls  that  are  set  for  large  game 
are  dangerous  even  for  man  to  approach  carelessly,  and  some- 
times even  the  trapper  himself  has  the  misfortune  to  be  caught 
in  the  very  trap  he  has  set  for  some  other  animal.  Early  one 
winter,  in  fact,  just  after  the  first  heavy  snowfall,  and  while 
some  bears  were  still  roaming  about,  before  turning  in  for  their 
long  winter  sleep,  an  Indian  hunter — I  have  forgotten  his 
name — assisted  by  his  son,  had  just  set  a  powerful  snare  for 
bears.  Soon  after  starting  for  home,  the  hunter,  discovering 
that  he  had  left  his  pipe  by  the  trap,  told  his  son  to  go  on  to 
camp,  and  he  would  return  to  recover  his  treasure.  On  arriving 
at  the  snare,  he  saw  his  pipe  lying  just  beyond  his  reach  at  the 
back  of  the  loop,  but  instead  of  walking  round  the  brush  fence 
and  picking  it  up  from  behind,  as  he  should  have  done,  he 
foolishly  put  his  leg  through  the  snare  in  order  to  reach  and 
dislodge  his  pipe.  By  some  evil  chance  his  foot  caught  upon 
the  loop;  and  instantly  he  was  violently  jerked,  heels  over  head, 
into  the  air,  and  there  hung  head  downward  strugghng  for  his 
fife.  He  had  made  the  tossing-pole  from  a  strong  tree,  up 
which  his  son  had  climbed  with  a  hne,  and  by  their  combined 
weight  they  had  forced  the  tree  top  over  and  down  until  they 
could  secure  it  by  setting  the  snare.  The  tossing-pole,  when 
the  snare  went  off,  sprung  up  with  such  force  that  it  not  only 
dislocated  the  hunter's  right  leg  at  the  knee,  but  it  threw  his 
knife  out  of  its  sheath,  and,  consequently,  he  had  no  means  by 
which  he  could  cut  the  hne,  nor  could  he  unfasten  it  or  even 
climb  up — for  he  was  hanging  clear  of  the  tree.    Presently, 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  93 

however,  he  began  to  bleed  from  the  nose  and  ears;  and  in  his 
violent  effort  to  struggle  free,  he  noticed  that  he  was  swinging 
from  side  to  side;  then  it  dawned  upon  him  that  if  he  could  only 
increase  the  radius  of  his  swing  he  might  manage  to  reach  and 
seize  hold  of  the  tree,  climb  up  to  slacken  the  Hne,  unfasten  the 
snare,  and  set  himself  free.  This,  after  much  violent  effort, 
he  finally  accomphshed;  but  even  when  he  reached  the  ground, 
everything  seemed  utterly  hopeless,  for  on  account  of  his  dis- 
located leg,  he  could  not  walk.  So  there  he  lay  all  night  long. 
During  twihght,  as  fate  ordained,  the  wounded  man  had  a 
visitor;  it  was  a  bear,  and  no  doubt  the  very  bear  for  which  he 
had  set  his  snare.  But  the  bear,  in  approaching,  did  not  notice 
the  man  until  it  was  almost  on  top  of  him,  and  then  it  became 
so  frightened  that  it  tore  up  into  a  neighbouring  tree  and  there 
remained  for  hours.  By  midnight,  however,  it  came  down, 
and  then  it  was  the  suffering  hunter's  turn  to  become  alarmed, 
for  the  big  brute  passed  very  close  to  him  before  it  finally  walked 
away.  A  little  after  sunrise  the  hunter's  son  arrived,  but  not 
being  able  to  carry  his  father,  and  fearing  lest  the  bear  might 
return  before  he  could  secure  help,  he  decided  to  leave  his 
father  there,  while  he  went  in  search  of  the  bear.  Tracking  it, 
he  soon  came  upon  it  and  shot  it  dead.  Back  he  hastened  to 
camp  and,  with  his  mother,  returned  with  a  sled  and  hauled 
the  wounded  man  home. 

THE  FOX  AT  HOME 

The  "coloured"  foxes,  including  the  red,  the  cross,  the  silver, 
and  the  black — the  latter  three  being  merely  colour  phases 
of  the  former  and  not  separate  species,  as  has  frequently  been 
proved,  but  all  four  having  been  found  in  the  same  fitter — ^mate 
in  February  and  March.  They  pair  and  remain  faithful  partners. 
The  father  also  helps  in  feeding  and  caring  for  the  young  which 
are  born  about  fifty  days  after  the  mating  season.    The  fitter 


94  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

contains  from  three  to  ten,  and  when  a  few  weeks  old  the  young 
are  as  playful  and  as  interesting  as  domestic  kittens.  The  den 
in  which  they  are  born  may  be  a  hollow  tree,  a  hollow  log,  or 
more  often  an  underground  tunnel  with  several  entrances  and 
a  storeroom  besides  the  hving  chamber.  The  nest  is  never 
hned,  but  left  quite  bare  and  is  kept  clean.  Their  principal 
food  is  derived  from  mice,  birds,  fowl,  and  rabbits;  and  the 
parents  frequently  cache  food  for  both  their  young  and  them- 
selves. No  wonder  they  are  good  providers,  for  what  with 
their  keen  sense  of  scent  and  their  great  speed  they  seldon 
fail  in  their  hunts.  They  are  fond  of  open  country  and  have 
an  individual  range  of  very  few  miles,  perhaps  ten  at  the  most. 
In  winter  they  run  singly  imtil  the  mating  season;  seldom 
are  the  tracks  of  more  than  two  foxes  seen  together,  and  their 
principal  enemies  are  men,  wolves,  lynxes,  and  dogs. 

As  the  district  through  which  we  were  passing  was  rich  in 
fox-signs,  Oo-koo-hoo  set  a  number  of  traps.  Such  work  takes 
time,  and  when  we  reached  a  well-wooded  grove  of  second- 
growth  birch,  poplars,  and — along  a  little  creek — willows,  we 
began  to  think  of  where  we  should  camp  for  the  night.  Be- 
sides, the  old  hunter  deemed  it  an  ideal  spot  in  which  to  set 
lynx  and  rabbit  snares.  So  while  the  boys  cut  wood  for  the 
fire  and  brush  for  our  beds,  and  then  turned  to  the  cooking  of 
supper,  Oo-koo-hoo  cut  a  great  mass  of  birch,  poplar,  and  willow 
branches  and  tops,  and  threw  them  into  piles,  not  only  to  at- 
tract the  rabbits  thither,  but  to  afford  them  a  prolonged  feast 
for  many  weeks,  and  thus  fatten  them  for  his  own  use;  more- 
over, the  gathering  of  the  rabbits  would  prove  a  strong  attrac- 
tion for  the  lynxes  of  the  region.  Sometimes,  at  such  a  spot, 
hmidreds  of  rabbits  will  feed,  and  in  winter  time  the  place  may 
become  such  a  network  of  runways  that  if  it  happens  to  be  a 
fedrly  open  hillside  one  can  see  from  half  a  mile  away  the 
shadows  of  the  endless  tracks  that  mark  the  ghstening  snow  in 
all  directions. 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  95 

During  the  years  of  great  plenty — ^which  the  Indians  and 
traders  assert  come  about  every  seventh  year — the  number  of 
rabbits  in  some  sections  of  the  northern  forest  is  ahnost  beyond 
belief.  Then  a  plague  suddenly  overtakes  them,  almost  wiping 
them  out  of  existence,  and  several  years  elapse  before  the  dis- 
ease disappears  and  they  begin  to  increase  again.  The  plague, 
of  course,  is  the  rabbit's  greatest  enemy,  then  follows  the  lynx, 
the  fox,  the  wolf,  and  many  other  animals  and  even  birds  such 
as  the  owl  and  the  hawk;  but  somewhere  among  that  destruc- 
tive group  man  plays  a  prominent  part. 

THE   RABBIT  AND  THE  HUNTER 

The  rabbit,  or  more  properly  the  varying-hare,  of  the  north- 
em  forest  is  also  called  the  snowshoe  rabbit,  from  the  fact  that 
nature  has  provided  it  with  remarkable  feet  that  allow  it  to  run 
with  ease  over  the  deepest  and  softest  snow.  It  wears  a  coat 
that  changes  colour  with  the  changing  seasons:  brown  in  summer 
and  white  in  winter.  Its  food  is  derived  principally  from  the 
bark  of  the  poplar,  the  willow,  and  the  birch.  In  winter  time 
rabbits  are  found  to  be  fattest  when  the  moon  is  full,  and  that  is 
accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  they  feed  at  night,  and  feed  most 
when  the  moon  is  giving  hght.  Besides,  on  stormy  nights, 
especially  between  moons,  they  remain  more  under  cover  and 
feel  less  inclined  to  venture  out  even  to  secure  their  needed 
food.  In  all  the  north  woods  there  is  no  animal  that  is  of  more 
use  to  man,  beast,  or  bird,  than  the  rabbit,  nor  is  there  any 
goiimal  that  is  so  friendly  to  aU  alike;  yet  no  other  creature  of 
the  wilderness  is  so  preyed  upon  as  the  rabbit.  But  in  winter 
its  safety  hes  not  so  much  in  the  great  speed  it  possesses  as  in 
its  snowshoe  feet  and  in  its  skill  in  dodging.  Rabbits  mate  in 
March  and  April,  the  usual  htter  of  three  or  four  being  bom 
about  a  month  later.  The  nest  is  usually  on  the  ground  in 
some  sheltered  place  under  brushwood  that  forms  a  good  pro- 


96  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

tection,  and  the  nest  is  lined  with  leaves,  grass,  or  their  own 
cast-off  fur. 

A  rabbit  snare  is  made  of  fine  babiche,  sinew,  cord,  or 
wire,  and  the  loop  is  hung  over  a  rabbit  runway  just  high 
enough  to  catch  it  round  the  neck.  In  its  struggles  it  sets  off 
the  spring  or  tossing-pole,  thus  usually  ending  its  sufferings. 
When  thus  caught  the  flesh  is  tender  and  sweet;  but  when 
caught  by  a  leg  the  flesh  is  flabby  and  tasteless,  the  reason  being 
that  when  caught  by  the  neck  the  rabbit  is  kiUed  almost  in- 
stantly; but  when  snared  by  a  leg  it  hangs  struggling  in  pain  for 
hours  before  it  finally  bleeds  at  the  nose  and  dies,  or  is  frozen 
to  death.  When  the  latter  happens,  however,  the  rabbit  is 
usuaUy  thrown  to  a  dog  or  used  for  trap  bait.  The  reason 
Oo-koo-hoo  set  the  rabbit  snares  was  not  so  much  for  present 
needs  as  to  provide  meals  for  the  hunter  while  on  his  futm-e 
rounds;  also  to  keep  on  hand  a  goodly  supply  of  trap  bait. 

Expert  hunters,  when  they  have  time,  prefer  to  hunt  rabbits 
by  calling  them.  In  the  rutting  season  they  imitate  the  love- 
call  of  the  female,  and  in  other  seasons  they  mimic  the  cries  of 
the  young;  in  either  case,  the  unsuspecting  animals  come  loping 
from  all  directions,  and  the  hunter  bowls  them  over  with  fine 
shot.  CaUing  takes  much  practice,  but  when  the  hunter  has 
become  an  adept,  it  is  the  easiest  and  the  quickest  way  of 
catching  them. 

In  relation  to  setting  snares  for  rabbits,  Mrs.  Wm.  Corn- 
wallis  King,  the  wife  of  a  weU-known  Hudson's  Bay  Company's 
chief  trader,  once  had  an  unusual  experience.  She  had  set  for 
rabbits  a  munber  of  snares  made  of  piano  wire,  and  when  visiting 
them  one  morning  she  was  astonished  and  delighted,  too,  to 
find  caught  in  one  of  her  snares  a  beautiful  silver  fox;  stranger 
still,  the  fox  was  caught  by  its  tongue.  As  usual,  after  in- 
vestigation, the  snow  told  the  whole  story  in  a  graphic  way. 
It  showed  that  the  fox  had  been  pursuing  a  rabbit,  both  going 
on  the  full  run,  and  the  latter  always  dodging  in  the  effort  to 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  97 

escape  from  its  enemy.  Finally,  the  rabbit  had  bolted  past  the 
snare,  and  the  panting  fox,  with  its  tongue  hanging  out,  follow- 
ing close  behind,  accidentally  had  touched  its  wet  tongue 
against  the  wire,  and  the  frost  of  many  degrees  below  zero  had 
instantly  frozen  it  there.  Then  the  fox,  struggling  to  get  free, 
had  set  off  the  snare,  which  closing  on  its  tongue  had  hauled  it 
into  the  air,  where  it  had  hung  with  just  the  tip  of  its  tail  and 
its  hind  toes  resting  on  the  snow.  When  Mrs.  King  found  it, 
it  was  dead. 

That  evening,  when  the  fire  sank  low  and  we  tmned  in,  a 
pack  of  timber  wolves  for  fully  an  hour  sang  us  a  most  interest- 
ing lullaby;  such  a  one,  indeed,  that  it  made  the  goose-flesh  run 
up  and  down  our  backs — or  rather  my  back — just  as  really 
fine  music  always  does;  and  to  tell  the  truth,  I  enjoyed  it  more 
than  many  a  human  concert  I  have  heard. 

HUNTING  THE  LYNX 

It  was  cool  next  morning  and  cloudy  and  threatening  snow. 
Five  rabbits  had  been  caught  during  the  night,  and  after  break- 
fast we  turned  to  setting  lynx  snares.  The  steel  trap  is  set  for 
the  lynx  much  in  the  same  way  as  it  is  for  the  fox;  but  for 
the  lynx,  a  snare  is  preferable.  It  is  set  with  or  without  a 
tossing-pole,  at  the  entrance  of  a  brush-lodge,  the  base  of  which 
is  about  five  feet  wide.  The  bait  used  is  made  by  rubbing 
beaver  castorum  on  a  bit  of  rabbit  skin  placed  in  a  spUt  stick  set 
vertically  in  the  centre  of  the  lodge.  A  surer  way,  however,  is 
to  also  set  a  steel  trap  in  front  of  the  lodge  door,  so  that  if  the 
lynx  does  not  enter,  he  may  be  caught  while  looking  in.  The 
Indians  often  hunt  them  with  dogs,  for,  when  pursued,  the 
lynx  soon  takes  to  a  tree  and  then  is  easily  shot.  But  the  most 
proficient  hunters  like  to  hunt  them  by  calling.  They  imitate 
its  screech  and  also  its  whistle,  for  the  lynx  whistles  some- 
what like  a  jack-rabbit,  though  the  sound  is  coarser  and 


98  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

louder.  Some  Indians  are  very  successful  in  this  mode  of 
hunting. 

Besides  being  able  to  whistle,  the  lynx  far  surpasses  the 
domestic  cat  in  the  range  and  volume  of  his  evening  song;  and 
during  the  rutting  season,  at  sunrise  and  sunset,  he  has  a 
pecuhar  habit  of  beating  or  drumming  with  his  forepaws  on 
the  hard  snow  or  earth.  No  doubt  it  is  a  form  of  challenge, 
used  much  in  the  same  way  as  the  drumming  of  cock-grouse; 
martens  and  rabbits  do  the  same.  The  lynx  is  a  wonderful 
swimmer  and  is  dangerous  to  tackle  in  the  water,  for  he  can 
turn  with  remarkable  agihty,  and  board  a  canoe  in  a  moment. 
Of  all  northern  animals  he  is  perhaps  the  most  silent  walker, 
for  in  the  night  a  band  of  five  or  six  lynxes  may  pass  close  beside 
one's  tent  and  never  be  heard,  though  a  single  rabbit,  passing 
at  the  same  distance,  may  make  enough  noise  to  awaken  a 
sound  sleeper.  Though  he  often  behaves  hke  a  coward, 
hunters  approach  him  with  care  when  he  is  caught  in  a  steel 
trap,  as  he  can  make  a  great  spring  and  when  he  chooses,  can 
fight  desperately.  While  in  summer  he  is  a  poor  runner,  in 
winter  he  is  greatly  aided  by  his  big  feet,  which  act  as  snow- 
shoes  and  help  him  over  the  soft  snow  and  the  deep  drifts.  Few 
animals  succeed  in  killing  him,  for  what  with  his  unusual  speed 
in  water  and  the  fact  that  he  can  climb  a  tree  with  almost  the 
ease  of  a  monkey,  his  chances  of  escape  are  always  good. 

Lynxes  mate  in  March,  the  young  being  born  about  three 
months  later,  the  Ktter  consisting  of  from  one  to  five.  The 
father  assists  in  the  support  of  the  kittens,  which  are  much  hke 
those  of  the  domestic  cat.  The  lynx's  coat  is  gray  mottled 
with  brown,  but  in  winter  it  turns  a  fighter  colour;  in  weight  he 
runs  from  thirty-five  to  forty-five  pounds.  His  principal  food 
is  derived  from  rabbits  and  any  other  animals  he  can  kill,  from 
beaver  down,  as  well  as  grouse,  ptarmigan,  and  other  birds 
and  fowl;  occasionally  he  will  tackle  the  young  of  deer,  but 
he  never  dares  to  molest  man.    When  his  catch  is  more  than 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  99 

sufficient  for  his  present  need,  he  caches  the  remainder  in  snow 
or  earth  for  future  use.  He  is  as  cleanly  as  a  house  cat,  and  his 
flesh  when  cooked  resembles  a  cross  between  rabbit  and  veal. 


MARTEN  TRAPPING 

After  setting  a  number  of  snares  for  lynxes  we  resumed  our 
march,  and  on  rounding  the  end  of  a  httle  lake,  saw  two  fresh 
moose-tracks.  Following  them  up,  we  finally  came  to  a  park- 
Uke  region,  where  was  very  httle  imderbrush,  and  where  most 
of  the  trees  were  pine  and  spruce — an  ideal  spot  for  marten. 
So  Oo-koo-hoo,  forgetting  all  about  his  moose-tracks,  made 
ready  to  set  some  marten  traps. 

For  one  marten  an  Indian  catches  in  a  steel  trap  he  catches 
a  dozen  in  wooden  deadfalls;  but  with  the  white  trapper  it  is 
different — ^he  rehes  chiefly  on  the  steel  traps.  Steel  traps  are 
set  either  in  the  open  or  in  the  tracks  of  the  marten  in  ex- 
actly the  same  way  as  for  foxes,  and  either  with  or  without 
tossing-poles.  The  largest  and  best  deadfalls  used  by  the  In- 
dians are  those  they  set  for  bears.  The  city-dweUing  author, 
or  iUustrator,  who  has  not  hved  in  the  wilderness,  would  never 
think  of  depicting  an  Indian  trapper  with  a  big  hand-auger 
hanging  from  his  belt,  perhaps  no  more  than  he  would  depict 
a  pirate  armed  with  a  big  Bible;  yet,  nevertheless,  it  is  a  fact 
that  the  Indian  trapper  nowadays  carries  an  auger  much  as 
the  old  buccaneer  carried  his  cutlass — thrust  through  his  belt. 
Somehow  or  other,  I  never  could  associate  Oo-koo-hoo's  big 
wooden-handled  auger  with  his  gun  and  powder-horn,  and  all 
the  whfle  I  was  curious  as  to  what  use  he  was  going  to  make  of 
it.    Now  I  was  to  have  my  curiosity  satisfied. 

First  he  selected  an  evergreen  tree  about  a  foot  in  diameter — 
this  time  it  was  a  pine — and  with  his  axe  cut  a  horizontal  notch 
one  to  two  inches  deep;  then  he  blazed  the  tree  six  or  eight 
inches  down  to  the  notch,  in  order  to  form  a  smooth,  flat  sur- 


100  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

face; then  he  took  his  big  auger  and  bored  down  into  the  tree,  at 
an  indine  of  about  twenty  degrees,  a  hole  of  two  inches'  diame- 
ter and  nine  inches  deep.  Allowing  at  that  spot  for  two  feet  of 
snow,  he  had  bored  the  hole  about  thirty  inches  above  ground. 
Then  taking  two  inch-and-a-quarter,  thin,  sharp-pointed  nails 
he  drove  them  obhquely  into  the  tree  just  above  the  hole,  so 
that  about  three  quarters  of  each  protruded  into  the  hole.  He 
did  the  same  with  two  other  nails  below  the  hole,  but  this  time 
drove  them  upward  until  they,  too,  protruded  into  the  hole. 
Both  sets  of  nails  were  driven  in  about  an  inch  and  a  quarter 
apart.  The  bait  used  was  a  duck's  head  placed  at  the  bottom 
of  the  hole.  The  idea  was  that  when  the  marten  scented  the 
bait,  he  would  crawl  into  the  hole  to  secure  it;  but  when  he 
tried  to  withdraw,  he  would  find  himself  entrapped  by  the  four 
sharp-pointed  nails  that,  though  they  allowed  him  to  slip  in, 
now  prevented  him  from  backing  out  as  they  ran  into  his  flesh, 
and  held  him  until  the  hunter,  placing  two  fingers  of  each  hand 
over  the  four  nail-points,  seizing  with  his  teeth  the  animal's 
tail,  and  throwing  back  his  head,  would  draw  his  victim  out. 
But  such  work  is  rather  risky,  as  the  hunter  may  be  bitten 
before  he  has  a  chance  to  kill  the  marten. 

Though  it  is  a  very  recent  mode  of  trapping — only  about 
thirty-five  years  old — ^it  is  now  considered  the  best  of  all  ways 
for  taking  marten,  as  the  traps  not  only  remain  set  all  winter, 
but  they  last  for  years.  Later  I  learned  from  a  chief  factor 
that  it  was  invented  by  a  Saulteaux  Indian  named  Ke-now- 
keoose,  who  was  at  one  time  employed  as  a  servant  of  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company,  where  he  learned  the  use  of  car- 
penter's tools — later,  when  he  left  the  service,  he  hunted  and 
trapped  along  the  Athabasca,  the  Slave,  and  the  Mackenzie 
rivers.  Sometimes  twenty-five  to  thirty  such  traps  are  set  by 
a  hunter  in  a  single  day.  Mink  and  ermine  are  often  caught 
in  them,  and  on  one  occasion  even  a  wolverine  was  taken.  The 
wolverine,  having  scented  the  bait,  followed  it  up,  and  while 


The  lynx  is  an  expert  swimmer  and  is  dangerous  to  tackle  in 
the  water,  for  he  can  turn  with  remarkable  agility,  and  board  a 
canoe  in  a  moment.  Of  all  northern  animals  he  is  perhaps  the  most 
silent  walker.  Though  he  often  behaves  like  a  coward,  hunters 
approach  him  with  care  when  he  is  caught  in  a  steel  trap,  as  he  can 
make  a  great  spring  and  when  he  chooses,  can    .    .    .     See  Chapter  III 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  lOl 

endeavouring  to  secure  the  dainty  duck's  head,  thrust  his 
forepaw  into  the  hole  and  was  thus  taken  prisoner. 

Oo-koo-hoo  took  pains  to  teach  the  boys  everything  in  rela- 
tion to  trapping,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  sure  they  had  mastered 
the  details  of  setting  such  traps,  he  went  ahead  with  his  axe  to 
blaze  the  right  trees,  while  the  boys  followed  with  the  auger, 
and  in  the  work  of  boring  the  holes  and  driving  the  nails  took 
turn  and  turn  about.  But  after  all,  the  old-fashioned  deadfall 
is  more  humane  than  any  other  way  of  trapping,  as  it  often 
ends  the  animal's  suffering  at  once  by  kiUing  it  outright,  instead 
of  holding  it  a  prisoner  till  it  starves  or  is  frozen  to  death,  before 
the  hunter  arrives  on  his  usual  weekly  round  of  that  particular 
trapping  path. 

Martens  mate  in  February  or  March,  the  young  being  born 
about  three  months  later,  either  in  a  hole  in  the  ground  or  in  a 
hollow  tree;  the  nest  being  hned  with  moss,  grass,  or  leaves,  and 
the  htter  numbering  usually  from  two  to  four.  The  marten  is  a 
wonderfully  energetic  httle  animal,  even  more  tireless  than  the 
squirrel  and  as  great  a  climber.  It  is  an  expert  hunter  and  its 
food  includes  birds,  fish,  chipmimks,  birds'  eggs,  mice,  fruit, 
and  rabbits;  and  it  stores  its  surplus  food  by  burying  it. 

MINK  ON  THE  FUR  TRAIL 

By  the  time  Oo-koo-hoo  and  his  grandsons  had  set  twelve 
or  fifteen  traps  it  was  nearing  noon,  so  we  had  lunch  before 
starting  off  in  search  of  another  rich  game  region.  While  on 
our  way  that  afternoon  the  old  hunter  again  discovered  signs 
of  wolverines  and  it  worried  him,  for  it  meant  not  only  the 
destruction  of  many  of  his  traps,  but  also  the  ruining  of 
the  pelts  of  some  of  the  animals  he  might  catch.  Continuing, 
we  soon  entered  an  ideal  valley  for  mink,  where  two  tm-bulent 
httle  crystal  streams  roared  at  one  emother  as  they  sprang 
together  among  the  rocks  and  then  fell  down  into  dark. 


102 THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

eddying  pools  where,  no  doubt,  trout  leaped  after  flies  in  due 
season. 

The  mink  is  a  small  animal,  about  two  feet  long,  including 
his  tail.  In  colour  he  is  of  a  dark,  rich  brown.  Though  he  is 
not  a  swift  runner  and  is  rather  a  poor  climber,  he  is  an  excel- 
lent swimmer  and  is  a  desperate  fighter  of  great  strength. 
Minks  mate  in  February  and  March;  the  female  burrowing  in  a 
bank,  a  rocky  crevice,  or  beneath  a  log  or  a  stump,  or  perhaps  in 
a  hollow  tree;  the  nest  is  lined  with  moss,  feathers,  or  grass,  and 
the  young  are  born  about  forty  days  after  the  mating  season. 
The  minks'  food  may  be  flesh,  fish,  or  fowl  and,  if  overstocked, 
it  is  stored  for  future  use. 

On  land,  the  mink  is  caught  exactly  as  the  fox,  the  fisher,  or 
the  marten  is  caught,  except,  of  course,  that  there  is  a  difference 
in  the  size  of  the  traps.  In  water,  the  steel  trap  is  set  just  be- 
low the  surface  and  rests  on  the  muddy  or  sandy  bottom,  where 
it  is  half  covered  with  soil  as  it  hes  in  readiness  close  to  the  bank 
where  the  mink  is  in  the  habit  of  passing  in  and  out  of  the 
stream.  Mixed  bait  is  placed  on  the  branches  of  the  near-by 
bushes.  In  order,  however,  to  better  his  chances  of  catching 
the  mink,  the  hunter  may  build  a  deadfall  near  the  trap,  where 
the  animal  is  in  the  habit  of  entering  the  bush.  Then  extra 
bait  of  rancid  fish  or  duck  is  used.  This  mode  of  water- 
trapping  applies,  also,  to  muskrat,  otter,  and  beaver.  The 
mink,  however,  is  a  stupid  creatiu-e,  and  it  does  not  require 
great  skill  to  trap  him;  but  the  hunter,  nevertheless,  must  take 
care  when  removing  him  from  the  trap,  for  the  little  brute 
has  the  heart  of  a  Hon  and  will  tackle  anything,  regardless  of 
size. 

We  camped  that  night  on  the  hillside  overlooking  "Mink 
Creek"  as  Oo-koo-hoo  called  it,  and  next  morning  we  again 
set  out  on  our  circular  way,  for  on  leaving  our  lodges,  we  first 
headed  almost  due  west  for  about  three  miles,  then  we  turned 
south  for  two  more,  and  gradually  working  round,  we  were  soon 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  103 

facing  east;  that  course  we  followed  for  a  day,  then  on  the 
morrow  we  worked  round  toward  the  north,  and  finally  to 
the  west  again,  as  we  neared  home.  Thus  the  trapping  path 
was  laid  in  an  eUiptic  form,  somewhat  suggesting  the  letter  C, 
with  the  home  camp  between  the  two  ends  of  the  letter.  Many 
times  during  the  winter  circumstances  proved  the  wisdom 
of  Oo-koo-hoo's  plan,  especially  when  the  sled  became  over- 
loaded with  game,  and  a  short  cut  to  camp  became  desirable. 
Though  no  part  of  his  fur  path  lay  more  than  five  miles  from 
the  lodges,  yet  to  make  the  full  circuit  on  showshoes,  to  examine 
the  traps,  and  to  set  some  of  them,  it  required  a  long  day,  as  the 
path  must  have  covered  in  a  zig-zagging  way  more  than  twenty 
miles.  Later  on  he  and  Amik  laid  out  two  more  such  trapping 
paths:  one  to  the  north  and  the  other  to  the  east  of  Bear  Lake. 
The  one  to  the  northward  was  to  be  especially  for  bears  and 
wolves  as  it  was  a  good  region  for  both  those  animals.  At  sup- 
per time  a  snow  flurry  overtook  us  and  whitened  the  forest. 
As  we  sat  around  the  fire  that  evening,  the  last  evening  of 
our  trip,  Oo-koo-hoo  again  began  worrying  about  the  presence 
of  wolverines,  recalling  many  of  his  experiences  with  those 
destructive  animals.  But  none  of  his  stories  equalled  the 
following,  told  once  by  Chief  Factor  Thompson. 

MEGUIR  AND  THE  WOLVERINE 

It  happened  years  ago  when  an  old  Dog-rib  Indian,  called 
Meguir,  was  Hving  and  hunting  in  the  vicinity  of  Fort  Rae  on 
Great  Slave  Lake.  The  Dog-rib  and  his  family  of  five  had  been 
hunting  Barren  Ground  Caribou,  and  after  kiUing,  skinning,  and 
cutting  up  a  number  of  deer,  had  built  a  stage  upon  which  they 
placed  the  venison.  Moving  on  and  encountering  another 
herd  of  caribou,  they  killed  again,  and  cutting  up  the  game, 
stored  it  this  time  in  a  log  cache.  Again  setting  out  on  the 
hxmX — fpr  they  were  laying  in  their  supply  of  deer  meat  for  the 


104  THE  DRA.MA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

winter — ^they  again  met  with  success;  but  as  it  was  in  a  district 
devoid  of  trees,  they  simply  covered  the  meat  with  brush;  and 
while  Meguir  and  his  wife  set  off  to  haul  the  first  lot  of  meat  to 
camp,  the  three  grandchildren  set  to  work  to  haul  in  the  last. 
On  continuing  their  work  the  next  day  the  children  brought 
in  word  that  a  wolverine,  or  carcajou,  had  visited  the  log 
cache;  so  Meguir  set  off  at  once  to  investigate  the  story. 

When  he  arrived,  he  found  the  cache  torn  asunder,  and  the 
meat  gone.  Wolverine  tracks  were  plentiful  and  mottled  the 
snow  in  many  directions,  but  on  circHng,  Meguir  found  a  trail 
that  led  away,  and  on  following  it  up,  he  came  upon  a  quarter 
of  deer.  He  circled  again,  trailed  another  track,  found  more 
meat,  and  after  a  few  hours'  work  he  had  recovered  most  of  the 
venison;  but  on  smeUing  it,  he  found  that  the  wolverine,  in  its 
usual  loathsome  way,  had  defiled  the  meat.  Then,  on  going  to 
his  stage,  Meguir  found  that  it,  too,  had  been  visited  by  the 
wolverine,  as  the  stage  had  been  torn  down  and  the  meat 
defiled.  Indignant.at  the  outrage,  the  old  Dog-rib  determined  to 
hunt  the  carcajou  and  destroy  it.  But  before  doing  so,  he  made 
sure  that  all  his  deer  meat  was  hauled  to  camp  and  safely  stored 
upon  the  stages  beside  his  lodge.  That  night,  however,  his  old 
wife  woke  up  with  a  start  and  hearing  the  dogs  growhng,  looked 
out,  and  discovered  a  strange  animal  scrambhng  down  from  one 
of  the  stages.  At  once  she  screamed  to  her  old  man  to  get  his 
gun  as  fast  as  The  Master  of  Life  would  let  him,  as  the  wolverine 
was  robbing  them  again. 

Haff-awake,  and  that  half  all  excitement,  the  old  man  rushed 
out  into  the  snow  with  his  muzzle-loading  flintlock  and  let 
drive.  Instantly  one  of  his  dogs  fell  over.  Roaring  with 
rage,  the  old  Indian  re-loaded  with  all  speed,  and  catching 
another  glimpse  of  the  wolverine  in  the  faint  light  of  the  Aurora 
BoreaHs,  let  drive  again;  but  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  the  gun 
went  off  just  as  another  of  his  dogs  made  a  gallant  charge,  and 
once  more  a  dog  fell  dead — and  the  wolverine  got  away ! 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  105 

Nothing  would  now  do  but  that  the  old  man  must  seek  his 
revenge  at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  so  when  dawn  broke 
he  was  already  following  the  trail  of  the  mahcious  raider.  All 
day  he  trailed  it  through  the  snow,  and  just  before  dusk  the 
tracks  told  him  that  he  was  very  near  his  quarry;  but  rather 
than  run  the  risk  of  firing  in  a  poor  hght,  he  decided  not  to 
despatch  the  brute  until  dayhght  came. 

According  to  the  northern  custom,  when  he  camped  that 
night,  he  stood  his  gun  and  snowshoes  in  the  snow  far  enough 
away  to  prevent  their  being  affected  by  the  heat  of  the  fire. 
In  the  morning  his  snowshoes  were  gone.  Tracks,  however, 
showed  that  the  wolverine  had  taken  them.  Again  the  old  man 
trailed  the  thief;  but  without  snowshoes,  the  going  was  extra 
hard,  and  it  was  afternoon  before  he  stumbled  upon  one  of  his 
snowshoes  lying  in  the  snow,  and  quite  near  his  former  camp, 
as  the  "Great  Mischief  Maker"  had  simply  made  a  big  circuit 
and  come  back  again.  But  of  what  use  was  one  snowshoe?  So 
the  old  hunter  continued  his  search,  and  late  that  day  found  the 
other — damaged  beyond  repair. 

That  night,  filled  with  rage  and  despondency,  he  returned  to 
his  old  camp,  and  as  usual  placed  his  gun  upright  in  the  snow 
away  from  the  heat  of  the  fire.  In  the  morning  it  was  gone. 
New  tracks  marked  the  snow  and  showed  where  the  carcajou 
had  dragged  it  away.  Several  hours  later  the  old  man  found 
it  with  its  case  torn  to  ribbons,  the  butt  gnawed,  and  the 
trigger  broken. 

Tired,  hungry,  dejected,  and  enraged,  old  Meguir  sought  his 
last  night's  camp  to  make  a  fire  and  to  rest  awhile;  but  when  he 
got  there  he  found  he  had  lost  his  fire  bag  containing  his  flint 
and  steel — ^his  wherewithal  for  making  fire.  Again  he  went  in 
search,  but  fresh-falling  snow  had  so  obhterated  the  trail  and 
so  hindered  his  progress,  that  it  was  late  before  he  recovered  his 
treasure,  and  regained  his  dead  fireplace.  Yet  still  the  wolver- 
ine was  at  large. 


106  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

But  instead  of  thinking  of  wreaking  his  rage  upon  the 
wolverine,  the  poor  old  Indian  was  so  completely  intimidated 
by  the  wily  brute,  so  discouraged  and  so  despondent,  that  he 
imagined  that  the  whole  transaction  was  the  work  of  some  evil 
spirit.  As  a  result,  he  not  only  gave  up  hunting  the  wolverine, 
but  he  gave  up  hunting  altogether,  and  he  and  his  family  would 
have  starved  had  not  friends  come  to  their  rescue  and  rendered 
them  assistance  until  his  grandsons  were  old  enough  to  take 
charge. 

PREPARING  FOR  WINTER 

After  our  return  to  the  home-camp  we  experienced  several 
weeks  of  perfect  Indian  summer,  and  its  passing  was  marked  by 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  natural  phenomena  I  have  ever  seen. 
It  happened  when  the  deciduous  trees  were  at  their  height  of 
autumnal  glory,  and  when — as  though  to  add  still  more  to  the 
wonderful  scene — three  inches  of  clinging  snow  having  fallen 
during  the  night,  ghttered  under  the  briUiant  morning  sun. 
Truly  it  was  a  glory  to  behold — a  perfect  panorama  of  rioting 
greens,  yellows,  browns,  blues,  reds,  grays,  crimsons,  purples,  in 
fact,  every  colour  which  an  artist's  palette  could  carry;  and 
through  it  all  was  ever  woven  a  mass  of  lace-like  briUiant  white 
that  dazzled  the  eyes  of  the  beholder.  Only  once  in  fifty  years 
have  I  beheld  a  scene  so  enchanting. 

Next  day,  however,  a  strong  wind  blew  wild-looking  leaden 
clouds  over  the  forest,  and  Autumn,  taking  fright,  threw  aside 
her  gorgeous  rustUng  mantle  and  fled  away;  while  the  loons  on 
the  lake  fairly  shrieked  with  laughter. 

Meanwhile,  the  work  in  preparation  for  the  coining  of  winter 
had  made  good  progress.  Already  the  women  and  children 
had  laid  out  their  own  httle  trapping  paths — ^principally  for 
ermine,  rabbits,  partridges,  muskrats,  and  skunks,  the  game 
found  nearest  camp;  and  many  another  thing  had  the  women 
attended  to.    Though  they  still  possessed  the  sticking-plaster 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  107 

and  the  painkiller  supplied  by  the  trader,  they  refused  to  rely  on 
the  white  man's  trivial  cure-alls,  as  they  could  gather  better 
remedies  from  their  own  woods.  Their  chief  reason  for  buying 
"painkiller'*  was  that  they,  like  other  Indians,  rehshed  it  as  a 
cocktail  on  festival  occasions;  and  many  a  time  have  I  seen  a 
group  of  Indians — ^like  civihzed  society  people — topping  off 
cocktails  (of  painkiller)  before  sitting  down  to  dinner. 

In  case  of  illness,  however,  the  Indians  resort  much  to  bleed- 
ing, and  this  is  the  mode  of  operation:  a  sharp  flint  is  fastened 
to  the  spht  end  of  a  stick,  a  U-shaped  piece  of  wood  is  laid  over 
the  intended  spot,  and  the  thickness  of  the  wood  determines  the 
depth  of  the  incision.  The  flint  end  of  the  stick  is  raised  while 
the  other  end  is  held  down  in  such  a  way  as  to  bend  the  stick;  on 
releasing  the  end  containing  the  flint,  the  stick  strikes  down- 
ward and  drives  the  flint  into  the  flesh  to  the  required  depth 
and  no  more.  The  bowl  of  a  pipe  is  then  applied  to  the  cut, 
and  the  blood  is  drawn  off  through  the  stem.  Young  birch 
roots  boiled  in  a  second  water  make  a  tea  which  they  sweeten 
with  sugar  and  use  as  a  laxative.  Yellow  water-lily  roots  are 
boiled  until  a  black  sediment  forms — ^somewhat  similar  to 
iodine  in  appearance — and  with  a  feather  dipped  in  this  liquid 
wounds  are  painted  in  order  to  consume  proud  flesh  and  to 
prevent  mortification.  The  upper  tips — about  four  inches 
long — of  juniper  trees  having  been  boiled,  and  the  outer  bark 
removed,  the  inner  bark  is  scraped  off  and  mashed  up  for 
poultices.  The  liquor  in  which  the  juniper  has  been  boiled  is 
employed  for  washing  wounds,  as  it  causes  the  rapid  formation 
of  a  healing  cicatrix.  To  cm-e  cohc,  the  dried  root  of  the  "rat 
root"  is  chewed,  and  the  juice  swallowed. 

Among  other  work  that  was  well  under  way  was  the  making 
of  the  moccasins,  known  as  the  "mitten  moccasin" — ^by  far 
the  best  for  snowshoeing,  as  the  seam  runs  round  only  the  outer 
side  of  the  foot  and  leaves  no  puckering  above  the  toes  to  cause 
blistering.    True,  the  mitten  moccasin  is  not  of  the  Ojibway 


108  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

style,  but  Mrs.  Oo-koo-hoo  had  learned  to  make  it  when  she 
and  her  husband  formerly  sojourned  among  the  Wood-Crees 
on  the  upper  Athabasca. 

Supplying  the  family  with  socks  was  a  very  easy  affair, 
as  these  articles  were  simply  rectangular  shapes,  12  x  18  inches 
(for  adults)  cut  from  duffle — a  woollen  material  resembling  an 
extra  closely  woven  H.B.G.  blanket — and  worn  wrapped  about 
the  foot.  Such  socks  have  an  advantage  over  the  ordinary  kind 
as  they  are  more  easily  dried,  and  they  wear  much  longer,  as  the 
sock  can  be  shifted  about  every  time  the  wearer  puts  it  on,  thus 
warding  off  the  evil  day  when  holes  appear. 

Amik,  during  the  summer,  had  made  a  number  of  snowshoe 
frames,  and  now  the  women  were  lacing  them.  They  used 
fine  caribou  thongs,  especially  fine  for  the  heel  and  toe.  I  have 
seen  snowshoes  that  white  men  have  strung  with  cord;  but 
cord  is  of  little  use,  for  cord,  or  rope,  shrinks  when  wet  and 
stretches  when  dry,  whereas  deerskin  stretches  when  wet  and 
shrinks  when  drying.  Of  all  deerskin,  however,  that  of  caribou 
stretches  less  when  wet  than  any  other;  besides,  it  is  much 
stronger  and  that  is  why  it  makes  the  best  mesh  for  snowshoes. 
In  lacing  a  shoe,  a  wooden  needle  is  used,  but  the  eye,  instead  of 
being  at  one  end,  is  in  the  centre.  Amik  had  also  started 
work  on  several  hunting  sleds  of  the  toboggan  type — the  only 
kind  used  by  the  natives  of  the  Great  Northern  Forest.  They 
are  made  of  birch  wood  and  not  of  birch  bark,  as  a  noted  Ameri- 
can author  asserted  in  one  of  his  books  on  northern  life. 

A  hunting  sled  is  made  of  two  thin  boards,  split  from  a  birch 
log  by  using  wooden  wedges,  and  the  boards  are  shaved  flat  and 
smooth,  first  with  the  aid  of  a  very  sharp  axe  and  then  with  a 
crooked  knife.  A  hunting  sled  is  ten  to  twelve  inches  wide,  and 
commonly  eight  feet  long.  The  widest  part  of  the  sled  is  at  the 
first  cross-bar,  then  it  tapers  both  ways,  an  inch  less  at  the  tail, 
and  four  or  five  inches  less  at  the  end  of  its  gracefully  curved 
prow.    That  is  done  to  prevent  jamming  among  trees.    The 


00-KOO-HOO'S  EL  DORADO  109 

two  boards  are  fastened  to  four  cross-bars  with  deerskin  thongs, 
never  with  pegs  or  nails,  and  the  ground-lashing  is  made  fast  to 
the  cross-bars.  A  wrapper  of  deerskin  is  provided  in  which  to 
lash  the  load.  The  lashing  thong  is  eighteen  to  twenty  feet 
in  length.  Dog-sleds  are  made  much  longer,  and  up  to  about 
sixteen  inches  in  width,  and  are  provided  with  an  extra  hne 
that  trails  out  behind,  by  which  the  driver  holds  back  the  sled 
when  going  down  hill,  in  order  to  prevent  it  from  over-running 
the  dogs.  A  hunting-sled,  however,  is  usually  hauled  by  man 
by  means  of  a  looped  strap,  or  tump-hne,  with  a  broad  centre 
which  goes  over  the  hunter's  shoulders  or  head,  and  has  its  two 
ends  fastened  to  the  first  cross-bar  below  the  prow. 

During  the  next  few  days  Oo-koo-hoo  and  Amik  had  also 
finished  setting  their  traps,  snares,  and  deadfalls  for  all  the 
furred  creatures  of  the  woods,  including  wolves  and  bears. 
Already  the  camp  had  taken  on  a  business-hke  air,  for  the  big 
stretching  frames  for  the  skins  of  moose,  bear,  and  caribou  had 
been  erected  near  the  lodges;  and  as  the  hunters  had  secured 
both  moose  and  caribou,  the  frames  were  already  in  use. 
Trapping  had  begun  in  earnest,  and  though  fairly  successful — 
a  number  of  fine  skins  having  been  already  taken — the  hunters 
were  still  worried  over  the  wolverines.  On  one  path  alone  they 
had  found  nothing  but  a  fox's  foot,  and  the  tails  of  four  martens; 
besides,  several  of  their  traps  were  missing.  In  another  place, 
where  they  had  dressed  a  caribou  killed  by  Oo-koo-hoo,  and  had 
left  the  meat  overnight  for  the  women  and  boys  to  haul  in  next 
day,  wolverines  had  found  it  and  defiled  it  in  their  usual  way. 

The  women,  too,  had  had  their  troubles  as  owls  had  visited 
their  snares,  and  robbed  them  of  many  a  pelt.  Worse  in  some 
respects  than  the  wolverine  is  the  owl,  for  while  the  wolverine 
leaves  a  track  that  one  can  trail,  and  either  find  what  is  left  of 
the  game,  or  overtake  and  punish  the  marauder,  the  owl  leaves 
no  trail  at  all,  and  though  he  frequently  eats  only  the  brain  or 
eyes  of  the  game,  he  has  a  habit  of  carrying  the  game  away  and 


110  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

dropping  it  in  the  distant  woods  where  it  is  seldom  found.  So 
the  women  took  to  setting  steel  traps  on  the  ends  of  upright 
poles  upon  which  they  judged  the  owls  would  ahght,  as  these 
birds  are  much  given  to  resting  upon  the  tips  of  "ram-pikes," 
and  in  that  way  they  had  caught  several. 

One  evening  early  in  November,  after  a  hard  day's  travel 
through  a  big  storm  of  wet,  cHnging  snow,  we  sat  by  the  fire 
in  Oo-koo-hoo's  lodge,  and  happily  commented  on  the  fact 
that  we  had  got  everything  in  good  shape  for  the  coming  of 
winter.  Next  morning,  when  we  went  outside,  we  found  that 
everything  was  covered  with  a  heavy  blanket  of  cUnging  snow, 
and  the  streams  and  the  lake  beginning  to  freeze  over.  We 
found,  also,  to  our  amazement  that  a  big  bull-moose  had  been 
standing  on  the  bank  of  Muskrat  Creek  and  watching  the  smoke 
rising  from  our  lodges  as  the  fires  were  lighted  at  sunrise — just 
as  I  have  shown  in  my  painting. 

After  a  hurried  breakfast,  we  three  men  set  out  in  pursuit  of 
the  moose  which  we  overtook  within  a  mile,  and  then  there  was 
meat  to  haul  on  sleds  to  our  camp.  That  day  the  temperature 
fell  rapidly,  and  by  night  the  httle  streams  were  strongly  frozen, 
and  around  the  lake  the  ice  stretched  far  out  from  the  shore. 
So  we  gathered  up  the  canoes  and  stored  them  for  the  winter 
upside  down  upon  stages  made  for  the  purpose;  and  that  night 
before  we  turned  in  we  saw,  for  the  first  time  that  season, 
Akwutinoowe — "The  Freezing  Moon." 


IV 
00-KOO-HOO  PIAYS  THE  GAME 

TRAILING  THE  BEAR 

"My  son,  a  good  hunter  is  never  long  in  doubt;  for  when 
he  discovers  a  bear  track  and  follows  it  for  a  few  hundred  paces, 
he  knows  whether  the  track  was  made  by  day  or  by  night, 
whether  the  bear  was  large  or  small,  old  or  young,  male  or  fe- 
male; whether  its  coat  was  in  condition  or  not;  whether  the  beast 
was  merely  wandering  or  travelling  with  a  purpose  in  view; 
whether  it  was  frightened  or  undisturbed;  whether  going 
fast  or  slow;  and  whether  seeking  friends  or  food.  Also,  the 
hunter  knows  which  way  the  wind  was  blowing  when  the 
track  was  made,  he  knows  whether  the  bear  felt  tired  or 
active,  and,  fmthermore,  whether  or  not  it  wanted  to  go  to 
bed." 

I  laughed  aloud. 

Instantly  the  old  man's  kindly  face  was  clouded  with  a 
frown  and  he  exclaimed : 

"My  son  .  .  .  that  was  the  laugh  of  a  monias  (green- 
horn)", and  glaring  at  me,  he  added:  "At  first,  I  thought 
better  of  you,  but  now  I  am  sure  that  all  white  men  are 
fools!" 

Reahzing  my  mistake,  I  sobered,  and  suggested  that  if  he 
would  explain  I  would  have  a  chance  to  learn  the  ways  of  a 
great  hunter. 

"My  son,  it  is  a  simple  matter  to  read  a  track — ^that  is,  when 
one  has  learned  the  game.  For  then  one  has  but  to  look,  re- 
member, and  reason,  and  then  the  whole  story  unfolds  before 

111 


112  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

your  eyes;  just  as  when  you  open  and  read  what  you  white  men 
call  a  book.  And  some  day,  my  son,  if  you  try  hard  to  learn, 
you,  too,  may  be  able  to  read  the  tales  of  the  Strong  Woods 
Coimtry.  Now  listen  to  your  grandfather  and  he  will  explain: 
under  ordinary  conditions  a  deep,  clear  track  implies  action; 
a  faint,  shallow  one,  inaction;  the  length  of  the  stride  indicates 
the  speed;  if,  when  travelling  slow,  hair  is  found  upon  the  under- 
wood, the  animal  passed  at  night,  for  in  daylight  a  bear  is  as 
careful  as  a  lynx  to  avoid  striking  things;  if  the  bear  is  young 
or  middle  aged,  the  claw  marks  are  sharp  and  clean  cut;  if  it  is 
old,  they  are  blunt  and  blurred.  The  tracks  of  the  male, 
though  larger,  are  not  so  round  as  those  of  the  female,  and  the 
male's  toes  are  not  only  longer  and  spread  farther  apart,  but  the 
underside  of  his  foot  is  not  so  hairy  as  that  of  his  mate.  Then, 
too,  as  you  know,  there  are  other  signs  by  which  a  tracker  tells 
the  sex  of  his  quarry.  Now  if  the  bear  was  travelling  with  a 
definite  purpose  in  mind,  he  would  travel  straight,  or  as  nearly 
straight  as  he  could  through  the  woods,  and  in  order  to  save 
time,  he  might  even  occasionally  climb  a  tree  to  spy  out  the  lay 
of  the  land — as  he  frequently  does.  Then,  again,  if  he  were 
feeding,  the  ground  and  growth  beside  his  trail  would  show  it; 
if  suddenly  startled,  he  would  leave  the  familiar  sign  that  all 
large  animals  usually  leave  when  frightened;  and,  moreover,  it 
would  be  left  within  fifty  paces  of  the  place  where  he  took 
fright.  Furthermore,  if  he  were  tired  and  wanted  to  rest,  he 
would  begin  circling  down  wind,  so  that  he  could  come  about 
close  to  his  back  trail,  and  then  He  down,  facing  down  wind,  in 
such  a  position  that  he  could  see  anything  he  could  not  scent, 
and  scent  anything  he  could  not  see.  Thus  if  an  enemy  ap- 
proached, his  eyes  would  guard  his  front  while  his  scent  would 
guard  his  rear.  And  now,  my  son,  as  a  bear  usually  travels  up 
wind,  even  a  monias  of  a  white  man  could  surmise  which  way 
the  wind  was  blowing  when  the  track  was  made.  And  always 
remember,  my  son,  that  only  fools  laugh  at  common  sense. 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  113 

But  don't  get  discouraged,  keep  on  trying  hard  to  leam,  and 
then  perhetps  some  day,  if  you  Uve  long  enough,  you  may  be- 
come ahnost  as  wise  as  an  ordinary  Indian." 

The  perfect  season  for  hunting  the  black  bear,  and  in  fact  all 
other  fur-bearing  animals,  is  between  the  coming  of  the  snow 
in  late  autumn  and  the  going  of  the  snow  in  early  spring,  for 
during  that  intervening  season  the  coat  is  in  its  prime;  but  as 
the  bear  spends  much  of  the  winter  in  hibernation,  the  hunter 
must  make  the  best  of  his  two  short  opportunities;  that  is,  un- 
less he  already  knows  where  the  bear  will  "den  up,"  and  is 
counting  on  killing  him  in  his  o-wazhe — or  as  the  white  hunters 
and  traders  call  it  "wash" — ^his  den.  His  wash  may  consist 
of  a  hollow  tree  or  a  hollow  log,  a  cave,  or  any  suitable  shelter 
formed  by  an  uprooted  tree. 

The  finest  wash  I  ever  saw  was  in  the  woods  of  Quebec,  where, 
many  years  ago,  three  birch  saplings  had  taken  root  in  a  huge, 
hollow  pine  stump,  and  where,  as  time  passed,  the  stump, 
gradually  decaying,  had  allowed  the  roots  of  the  fast-growing 
birches  to  penetrate  through  the  cracks  in  the  stump  to  the 
ground.  The  roots  eventually  formed  the  rafters  of  a  moss- 
and  rotten-wood  chinked,  water-tight  roof  to  the  httle  cavern 
in  which  the  old  pine  stump  had  once  stood  and  where  two 
winters  ago  slept  a  bear.  There  was  but  a  single  entrance 
between  two  of  the  now  massive  birch  roots,  and  it  must  have 
proved  a  tight  squeeze  when  its  tenant  last  entered.  The  den 
was  shown  to  me  by  a  hunter  who  the  spring  before  had  hap- 
pened that  way.  While  pausing  to  listen  to  some  distant 
sound,  he  had  heard  a  stranger  one  within  ten  feet  of  where  he 
stood.  He  had  heard  deep  breathing  and  turning  to  look  down 
at  the  roots  of  the  birches,  he  had  discovered  a  full-grown 
black  bear  lying  there  with  its  head  protruding  out  of  the  den. 
The  head  was  turned  toward  him  and  the  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  him  with  a  friendly  expression.  Without  moving  a 
single  step  the  hunter  raised  his  rifle  and  fired,  instantly  killing 


114  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

the  bear  that  lay  motionless  scarcely  beyond  the  muzzle  of  his 
gun. 

THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  BEARS 

The  black  bear's  coat  is  all  of  a  glossy  black,  save  just  the 
muzzle,  which  is  light  brown.  In  weight  the  black  bear  runs 
from  two  hundred  to  five  hundred  pounds.  Though  he  is 
found  throughout  the  Great  Northern  Forest,  he  is  a  com- 
parative stay-at-home,  for  he  seldom  roams,  even  in  summer 
time,  more  than  ten  miles  from  his  den,  where,  if  undisturbed, 
he  goes  into  the  same  winter  quarters,  year  after  year.  Con- 
sequently, his  paths  are  often  clearly  defined  and  weU-beaten, 
for  he  has  the  habit  of  treading  repeatedly  in  his  old  tracks, 
and  occasionally  he  blazes  his  trail  by  clawing  and  biting,  as 
high  as  he  can  reach,  a  neighbouring  tree.  There,  too,  he  fre- 
quently leaves  other  signs — as  a  dog  does  at  a  post.  Dog-like, 
also,  other  bears  that  happen  along  manifest  pleasure  or  rage 
according  to  whether  the  sign  has  been  left  by  friend  or  foe. 
The  mating  season  is  in  June,  though  the  female  rarely  bears 
young  except  every  second  year.  The  young  are  born  in 
January  while  the  mother  is  hibernating;  and  the  cubs,  usually 
two  in  number,  are  at  birth  very  small,  weighing  only  about  ten 
ounces.  The  she-bear  makes  a  good  mother,  for  though  she 
shows  great  affection  for  her  babies,  she  nevertheless  repri- 
mands them,  and  cuffs  them  as  well,  whenever  they  misbehave 
or  fail  to  comply  with  her  wishes.  The  cubs  are  easily  tamed, 
and  being  natural  Kttle  romps,  they  soon  become  proficient 
wrestlers  and  boxers,  and  in  latter  years,  show  so  much  agihty 
in  the  manly  art  that  they  strike  and  parry  with  amazing 
power,  speed,  and  skill.  When  hurt,  however,  the  cubs  whimper 
and  cry  just  like  children,  and  if  the  httle  tots  are  badly 
wounded,  the  distress  of  the  mother  is  pitiful  to  see,  for  she 
moans  and  sheds  tears  just  as  any  tender-hearted  human 
mother  would.    Bear-cubs  are  droU  Httle  mischiefs.    Not  only 


OO-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  115 

do  they,  when  tamed,  frequently  get  mto  trouble  through  the 
pranks  they  play,  but  they  like  to  imitate  at  any  risk  to  them- 
selves the  doings  of  others.    As  the  following  example  shows: 

Years  ago,  near  Fort  Pelly,  on  the  Assiniboine  River,  an 
old  Indian  killed  a  she-bear  that  was  followed  by  two  cubs. 
Though  he  skinned  and  cut  up  the  carcass  of  the  mother,  he  did 
not  touch  the  whimpering  babes,  and  on  going  to  camp,  he  sent 
his  wife  out  with  a  horse  to  bring  in  the  meat.  When  the 
Indian  woman  arrived  at  the  spot,  she  found  the  two  cubs 
cuddled  up  against  the  dressed  meat  of  their  mother,  and 
crying  as  if  their  poor  hearts  would  break.  Their  affectionate 
behaviour  so  touched  the  motheriy  heart  of  the  old  woman 
that,  after  loading  the  meat  aboard  the  travois — a  framework 
of  poles  stretched  out  behind  the  horse — she  picked  up  the 
sobbing  children  and,  wrapping  them  in  a  blanket  to  keep  them 
from  falling  off  the  travois,  bestrode  her  horse,  and  brought 
them  whimpering  into  camp. 

For  some  time  she  kept  them  tethered  beside  her  lodge  where 
she  took  good  care  of  them,  but  when  they  grew  larger  and 
seemed  well  behaved,  she  released  them  and  allowed  them  to 
run  and  play  with  the  dogs  around  camp.  In  the  fall  it  was 
her  habit  to  take  a  hand-net  and  go  down  to  the  river  to  fish. 
Standing  upon  a  rock  and  every  once  in  a  while  casting  in  her 
net,  she  would  land  a  fish  on  the  bank.  For  several  days  the 
cubs  watched  her  with  interest,  and  then  one  day,  it  seems, 
they  decided  they  ought  to  try  and  help  their  foster-mother; 
so  wading  in  on  their  hind  legs  till  the  water  covered  their  Httle 
round  tummies,  they  would  stand  perfectly  still  until  a  fish 
would  swim  near.  Then  they  would  make  a  violent  lunge  for 
it,  and  striking  hghtning-like  blows  with  their  paws,  they,  too, 
would  land  a  fish  upon  the  bank.  Over  and  over  they  repeated 
the  manoeuvre,  with  evident  excitement  and  pleasure.  At 
last,  every  time  the  old  woman  picked  up  her  net  to  go  fishing, 
these  two  went  along  and  helped  her  with  her  work.    So  fond 


116  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

of  the  sport  did  they  become  that,  presently,  they  didn't  even 
wait  for  her  to  accompany  them,  but  scurried  down  to  the  river 
by  themselves  and  would  often  have  a  day's  fishing  caught  and 
ready  for  her  before  she  had  put  in  her  appearance. 

But  a  few  months  later,  when  the  cubs  had  grown  still  larger 
and  stronger,  they  became  so  boisterous  and  mischievous  that 
they  not  only  handled  the  dogs  too  roughly,  but  when  the  old 
Indian  and  his  wife  left  camp  at  any  time,  they  went  on  the 
rampage:  chasing  the  dogs  about,  ransacking  the  larder,  turn- 
ing the  camp  topsy-turvy,  and  scattering  everything  in  con- 
fusion. So  the  old  couple  decided  that  it  was  now  high  time 
to  put  their  skins  upon  the  skin-stretcher  in  readiness  to  sell 
to  the  fur-trader. 

The  black  bear  is  a  good  swimmer  and  an  excellent  tree 
climber,  and  the  speed  with  which  he  can  rush  up  a  hillside  is 
surprising.  His  diet  is  a  varied  one,  for  he  is  always  ready  to 
eat  vegetables,  roots,  berries,  insects,  nuts,  fish,  eggs,  meat, 
fruit,  and  of  course  sugar  or  honey;  furthermore,  he  is  a  killer 
of  small  game — ^when  he  is  extra-hungry.  The  black  bear  has 
been  given  so  bad  a  name  by  uninformed  writers  and  dishonest 
story-tellers  that  most  people  dread  to  meet  him  in  the  woods; 
whereas,  in  truth  he  is  usually  more  frightened  at  meeting 
human  beings  than  they  are  of  meeting  him — for  man  is  always 
his  greatest  and  most  dangerous  enemy.  Though  I  have  seen 
many  bears  in  the  bush — seventeen  on  one  trip — they  never 
caused  me  any  anxiety,  and  at  once  took  flight.  But  on  one  of 
two  rare  occasions  they  did  not  run,  perhaps  because  they  were 
three  in  number  and  all  full-grown. 

It  happened  up  on  the  borderhne  of  Alaska.  I  was  walking 
alone  through  the  mountains  on  my  way  to  Stewart,  and  wish- 
ing to  cross  the  Marmot  River,  I  took  advantage  of  a  great, 
permanent  snowshde  that  had  been  annually  added  to  by 
avalanches  from  the  snow-capped  glaciers.  The  snowshde 
not  only  completely  blocked  the  canon,  but  on  either  side  it 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  117 

reached  many  hundreds  of  feet  up  the  ahnost  perpendicular 
mountains,  yet  in  the  middle,  where  it  bridged  the  river,  it 
was  no  more  than  two  hundred  feet  high,  though  it  was  about 
two  thousand  feet  in  width.  Year  in  and  year  out  that  great 
snow-bridge  spanned  the  httle  river,  and  now  when  I  wanted 
to  make  use  of  it,  I  had  no  sooner  started  over  than  I  dis- 
covered three  bears  with  the  same  intention.  They,  too,  had 
just  come  out  of  the  woods,  and  were  only  forty  paces  from  me 
— as  I  afterward  measured.  We  were  all  going  in  the  same 
direction,  and  though  we  were  exactly  opposite  one  another  and 
all  walking  in  a  parallel  hne,  no  one  ran,  and  for  two  thousand 
feet  or  more,  without  stick  or  stone  between  us,  we  had  a  good 
opportunity  to  study  each  other.  As  usual,  I  was  armed — as 
I  always  take  care  to  be — ^with  a  penknife  and  a  pocket  hand- 
kerchief. 

Occasionally  one  reads  in  the  daily  press  shocking  stories 
of  the  ferocity  of  bears.  What  a  pity  that  the  truth  of  these 
stories  cannot  always  be  run  to  earths  Billy  Le  Heup,  a 
prospector  and  guide  of  northern  Ontario,  once  having  occasion 
to  call  for  his  mail  in  a  Uttle  backwoods  settlement,  opened  a 
newspaper  and  was  shocked  to  learn  that  a  most  harrowing 
affhction  had  befallen  an  old  friend  of  his,  by  name — ^But  I'm 
sorry  I  have  forgotten  it,  so  let  us  call  him  Jones.  The  paper 
reported  that  whUe  several  of  Jones's  children  were  out  berry- 
picking,  a  great,  black  bear  had  attacked  them,  and  killing  the 
youngest,  a  httle  girl,  had  devoured  her  entirely,  save  only  one 
tiny  fragment;  for  when  the  rescue  party  went  in  search  of 
the  poor  httle  child  they  found  nothing  but  her  blood-stained 
right  hand.  Le  Heup  was  so  overcome  with  sorrow  and  so 
filled  with  indignation  that  he  then  and  there  determined  to 
get  together  a  few  trapper  friends  of  his  and  at  once  start  by 
canoe  for  the  scene  of  the  tragedy,  only  a  few  miles  away;  there 
to  condole  with  the  poor  father,  trail  the  huge  brute  and  wreak 
vengeance  upon  the  child-eating  monster.    So  Bill,  with  several 


118  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

of  the  best  bear-hunters  in  that  region,  all  well  armed,  set  out 
in  haste  for  the  Jones's  clearing.  When  they  arrived,  Jones 
was  sphtting  wood  outside  his  shack.  The  sorrowing  trappers, 
with  downcast  eyes,  moved  slowly  toward  the  bereaved  father, 
and  Le  Heup,  appointed  spokesman,  offered  their  condolences 
on  the  terrible  death  of  his  favourite  child.  Jones  was  com- 
pletely dimabfounded.  When  it  was  explained  to  him  what  a 
dreadful  thing  had  happened  to  his  child,  he  swore  he  had  no 
idea  a  bear  had  ever  eaten  any  one  of  his  children;  but  he  was 
wiUing  to  put  their  story  to  the  proof,  so  as  he  had  a  lot  of 
children,  he  called  them  all  out  of  the  house  to  check  them  over. 
To  the  joyful  surprise  of  the  visitors,  there  among  them  was 
little  Eva — supposed  to  be  eaten,  and  she  even  retained  her 
right  hand.  Thus  another  newspaper  Hbel  upon  the  poor  old 
black  bear — the  buffoon  of  the  forest — ^was  shown  to  be  devoid 
of  truth;  yet  that  story  was  published  in  the  Toronto  papers, 
and,  no  doubt,  was  copied  all  over  the  United  States. 

But  though  the  black  bear  is  a  shy,  playful  brute,  usually 
ready  for  fhght  if  danger  approaches,  the  tyro  should  remember 
that  if  wounded  or  cornered  he  will  readily  fight.  Further- 
more, if  one  is  unlucky  enough  to  get  between  a  bear  cub  and 
its  mother,  and  if  the  cub  should  cry  out  as  though  you  were 
giving  it  pain,  the  mother  will  attack  you  as  readily  as  any 
mother  would — be  she  chicken,  moose,  or  woman. 

THE  WAYS   OF  THE  BEAVER 

A  few  days  later  Oo-koo-hoo  and  Amik  set  out  to  hunt  beav- 
ers— those  wonderful  amphibious  animals  of  the  Northland 
that  display  more  intelligence,  perseverance,  prudence,  and 
morahty  than  many  a  highly  civilized  human  being. 

In  appearance  the  beaver  somewhat  resembles  a  greatly 
magnified  muskrat,  save  that  the  beaver's  hairless,  scaly  tail 
is  very  broad  and  flat.    The  coat  of  the  beaver  is  brown,  and 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  119 

the  darker  the  colour  the  higher  the  price  it  brings.  An  adult 
beaver  may  measure  from  thirty-five  to  forty-five  inches  in 
length,  and  weigh  anywhere  from  thirty  to  sixty  pomids.  The 
beaver's  home  is  usually  in  the  form  of  an  island  house,  built 
in  the  waters  of  a  small  lake  or  slowly  running  stream,  to  af- 
ford protection  from  prowling  enemies,  much  in  the  same  way 
that  the  old  feudal  lords  surrounded  the  ramparts  of  their 
castles  with  broad  moats  and  flooded  the  intervening  space  with 
a  deep  canal  of  water,  in  order  to  check  the  advance  of  enemy 
raiders.  The  surrounding  shores  of  the  beaver's  castle  are 
nearly  always  wooded  with  poplars,  as  it  is  upon  the  bark 
of  that  tree  that  the  beaver  depends  most  for  his  food;  though 
at  times,  other  hardwoods  contribute  to  his  feast  as  well  as 
water-lily  roots  and  other  vegetation. 

The  beaver's  island-like  lodge  is  a  dome-shaped  structure  that 
rises  from  four  to  seven  feet  above  the  water,  and  measures 
from  ten  to  thirty  feet  in  diameter  on  the  water-line.  It  is 
composed  mostly  of  barkless  sticks  and  poles  from  one  to  four 
inches  in  diameter,  although  at  times  much  heavier  material 
is  used;  and  it  is  tightly  chinked  with  stones  and  mud  and 
matted  vegetation.  Frequently,  I  have  watched  the  building 
of  their  lodges.  A  foundation  of  water-logged  poles  and  sticks 
is  laid  upon  the  lake  or  river  bottom,  next  mud  and  stones 
are  added,  then  another  lot  of  branches,  thus  the  structure 
rises  in  a  fairly  solid  mound  until  its  dome-like  top  reaches  the 
desired  height  above  the  water-line.  Then  the  beavers  tunnel 
their  two  runways  into  the  centre  of  the  mass  from  an  under- 
water level  on  the  outside  to  an  over-water  level  on  the  inside 
of  the  mound.  Next,  by  gnawing  away  the  inside  sticks  and 
excavating  the  inner  mass,  the  inside  chamber  is  formed, 
measuring  anywhere  from  four  to  fourteen  feet  in  width,  and 
a  Uttle  over  two  feet  in  height,  with  its  walls  finished  fairly 
smooth.  Furthermore,  the  chamber  is  provided  with  two  floors 
each  of  which  covers  about  half  the  room.    While  the  lower 


120  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

floor  rises  from  three  to  six  inches  above  the  water  level,  the 
upper  floor  rises  from  fom*  to  eight  inches  above  the  lower  floor. 
The  tmmels  open  in  the  lower  floor  and  it  is  the  lower  floor  or 
level  that  is  used  as  a  drying  place  and  a  dining  room.  The 
upper  level,  covered  with  a  mattress  of  shredded  wood,  grass, 
or  moss,  forms  the  hving  and  sleeping  half  of  the  chamber. 
Though  in  winter  time  most  of  their  meals  are  eaten  in  the 
house,  the  green,  bark-covered  sticks  being  brought  into  the 
chamber  through  the  straightest  tunnel,  the  house  is  kept 
quite  clean  and  free  of  aU  rubbish  or  filth.  In  fact,  beavers  are 
better  housekeepers  than  some  human  beings  I  have  known. 

A  certain  amount  of  ventilation  is  derived  from  a  few  httle 
chinks  in  the  apex  of  the  roof.  During  the  first  freezing  nights 
of  late  fall  the  beavers  plaster  the  above-water  dome  of  their 
house  with  mud  which  they  carry  up  between  their  forelegs 
and  chin  from  the  lake  bottom,  and  placing  it  upon  the  roof 
of  their  house,  spread  it  about  in  a  thick  coating,  not  with  their 
tails,  but  with  their  forefeet,  where  it  soon  freezes  into  so 
soHd  a  mass  that  it  protects  the  inmates  from  the  attacks  of 
both  the  severest  winter  weather  and  the  most  savage  of  four- 
footed  enemies.  So  strong  indeed  does  the  roof  then  become 
that  even  a  moose  could  stand  upon  it  without  it  giving  way. 
While  some  writers  doubt  that  beavers  plaster  the  outside  of 
their  house  with  mud,  I  wish  to  add  that  I  have  not  only  ex- 
amined their  houses  before  and  after  the  plastering  was  done, 
but  on  several  moonlight  nights  I  have  actuaUy  sat  within  forty 
feet  of  them  and  watched  them  do  it. 

The  winter  supply  of  food,  being  mostly  poplar  bark,  is 
derived  from  the  branches  of  green  trees  which  the  beavers  cut 
down  in  the  autumn  for  that  very  purpose.  While  engaged  in 
gnawing  down  trees  the  beavers  usuaUy  work  in  pairs — one 
cutting  while  the  other  rests  and  also  acts  as  a  sentinel  to  give 
warning  in  case  an  enemy  approaches.  While  cutting  down 
trees  they  stand  or  sit  in  an  upright  position  upon  their  hind 


00-KOO-HOO  PIAYS  THE  GAME  121 

legs  and  are  firmly  supported  by  the  tripod  formed  by  the 
spreading  out  of  their  hind  feet  and  tail.  They  generally 
choose  trees  nearest  the  water  on  an  inclined  bank,  and  usually 
leaning  toward  the  stream;  and  while  they  show  no  particular 
skill  in  felling  trees  in  a  certain  position,  they  do  display  great 
perseverance,  for  if  it  happens,  as  it  sometimes  does,  that  a  tree 
in  its  descent  is  checked  and  eventually  held  up  by  its  neigh- 
bours, the  beavers  will  cut  the  trunk  for  the  second  time,  and 
in  some  cases  even  for  the  third  time,  in  order  to  bring  it  down. 

At  night  I  have  frequently  sat  by  the  hour  at  a  time,  with 
the  brush-screened  bow  of  my  canoe  within  ten  feet  of  a  party 
of  beavers,  while  they  were  busily  engaged  in  cutting  the 
branches  off  a  tree  that  they  had  felled  into  the  water  the 
previous  evening.  They  work  quickly,  too,  for  some  mornings 
I  have  paddled  past  a  big  tree  lying  in  the  water,  which  they 
had  dropped  the  night  before  and — on  returning  next  day — 
have  found  all  the  branches  removed,  though  some  of  them 
would  have  measured  five  inches  in  diameter.  But  watching 
beavers  work  at  night  is  not  only  interesting,  it  is  easy  to  do, 
and  I  have  frequently  taken  both  women  and  children  to  share 
in  the  sport.  Sometimes,  right  in  the  heart  of  the  wilderness, 
I  have  placed  children  within  fifteen  feet  of  beavers  while  they 
were  engaged  in  cutting  up  a  tree. 

When  branches  measure  from  one  to  three  inches  in  diameter 
they  are  usually  cut  in  lengths  of  from  five  to  ten  feet,  and  the 
thicker  the  branch  the  shorter  they  cut  the  lengths.  If  the 
cutting  is  done  on  land,  the  butt  of  the  long  thinner  length  is 
seized  by  the  beaver's  teeth  and  with  the  weight  resting  upon 
the  animal's  back,  is  dragged  along  the  ground — over  a  spe- 
cially cleared  road — and  eventually  deposited  in  the  water.  The 
shorter  lengths,  sometimes  no  longer  than  a  couple  of  feet,  but 
measuring  perhaps  six  or  eight  inches  in  diameter,  are  rolled 
along  the  ground  by  the  beaver  pushing  the  log  with  the  fore- 
feet or  shoulder.    When  the  wood  is  placed  in  the  water,  the 


122  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

beaver  propels  it  to  its  under-water  storage  place  near  its  lodge, 
where — the  wood  being  green  and  heavy — it  is  easily  secured 
from  floating  up  and  away,  by  placing  a  little  mud  over  one  end 
or  by  interlocking  the  stick  with  the  rest  of  the  pile.  The 
green  wood,  however,  soon  becomes  waterlogged  and  gives  no 
further  trouble.  Thus,  when  the  lake  or  river  is  frozen  over, 
the  beaver — ^for  it  does  not  hibernate — ^may  Hve  in  comfort 
all  winter  long  in  its  weather-proof  lodge  with  plenty  of  food 
stored  beneath  the  ice  and  just  beyond  the  watery  doorway  of 
its  home. 

HUNTING  THE   BEAVER 

The  hunters,  arriving  at  a  small  lake  that  lay  about  three 
miles  to  the  northwest  of  Bear  Lake,  crossed  it,  and  tiuning  up 
a  winding  creek,  followed  the  little  river  imtil  they  came  to  a 
beaver  dam  which  caused  the  stream  to  expand  into  another 
little  lake  that  flooded  far  beyond  its  old  water-line.  In  it 
was  to  be  seen  three  beaver  lodges. 

Oo-koo-hoo  said  the  scene  was  somewhat  altered  since  he  had 
visited  it  four  years  before,  as  the  dam  had  been  increased  both 
in  height  and  length,  and  the  pond,  increasing,  too,  had  reached 
out  close  to  many  a  tree  that  formerly  stood  some  distance  from 
the  water.  It  was  a  beautiful  little  mere  containing  a  few 
spruce-crowned  islands,  and  surrounded  by  thickly  wooded 
hiUs  whose  bases  were  well  fringed  with  poplars,  birches,  wil- 
lows, and  alders — an  ideal  home  for  beaver.  Among  the  little 
islands  stood  three  snow-capped  beaver  lodges.  Here  and 
there  wide-spreading,  wind-packed  carpets  of  snow  covered 
the  ice,  while  in  between  big  stretches  of  clear,  glassy  ice, 
acting  as  skyHghts,  lit  up  the  beavers'  submarine  gardens 
aroimd  their  ice-locked  homes. 

The  hunters  were  accompanied  by  three  of  their  dogs,  and 
before  they  had  time  to  decide  where  they  should  first  begin 
work,  the  dogs  began  barking  at  a  point  between  the  west  lodge 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  123 

and  the  bank;  so  they  went  over  to  investigate.  Evidently 
the  dogs  had  spied  a  beaver,  for  now,  though  none  was  in  sight, 
the  canines  were  rushing  back  and  forth  in  great  excitement 
over  a  fairly  deep  submarine  runway  or  clear  passageway, 
through  the  shallow,  rush-matted  water  under  the  ice. 

Chopping  a  hole  through  the  ice  with  his  axe,  Oo-koo-hoo 
drove  down  a  couple  of  crossed  poles  to  block  the  passageway, 
and  Amik,  finding  other  runways,  did  likewise  at  other  places. 
Several  of  the  passageways  led  to  the  bank,  where,  Oo-koo-hoo 
said,  they  had  what  is  called  "bank  lodges" — natural  cavities 
in  the  river  bank  to  which  the  beavers  had  counted  on  resorting 
in  case  their  house  was  raided.  In  other  places,  where  the  snow 
obscured  the  view,  the  Indians  knocked  on  the  ice  with  the 
backs  of  their  axes,  to  find  and  follow  the  hollow-sounding  ice 
that  told  of  runways  below,  that  other  stakes  might  be  driven 
down.  The  rapping  sound,  however,  instead  of  driving  the 
beavers  out  of  their  lodge,  had  a  tendency  to  make  them  remain 
at  home,  for  as  Oo-koo-hoo  explained,  cutting  ice  and  working 
around  their  homes  does  not  always  frighten  the  beavers. 

Securing  two  stouter  poles,  the  hunters  now  chopped  the 
butts  into  wedge-shaped  chisels,  with  which  they  proposed 
to  break  open  the  beavers'  lodge.  Work  was  begun  about  a 
foot  above  the  level  of  the  snow  on  the  south  side,  as  they 
explained  that  the  lodge  would  not  only  be  thinner  on  that  side, 
but  that  the  sun  would  make  it  shghtly  softer,  too — and  before 
much  headway  was  made  the  dogs,  all  alert,  discovered  that 
several  of  the  beavers  had  rushed  out  of  their  house,  but  finding 
the  passageways  blocked  had  returned  home. 

Now,  strange  to  say,  as  soon  as  the  side  of  the  house  was 
broken  open  and  dayhght  let  in,  the  beavers,  becoming  curious 
over  the  inflowing  fight  that  dazzled  their  eyes,  actuaUy  came 
toward  the  newly  made  hole  to  investigate.  Then  Oo-koo-hoo, 
with  the  aid  of  a  crooked  stick,  suddenly  jerked  one  of  the  un- 
suspecting animals  out  of  the  hole  and  Amik  knocked  it  on  the 


124  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

head.  Thus  they  secured  four  large  ones,  but  left  a  number 
of  smaller  ones  unharmed,  as  Oo-koo-hoo  never  made  a  practice 
of  taking  a  whole  family. 

In  that  house  the  portion  of  the  chamber  used  for  sleeping 
quarters  was  covered  with  a  thick  mattress  of  dry  "snake- 
grass,"  and  the  whole  interior  was  remarkably  clean.  After 
blocking  and  patching  up  the  hole  and  covering  the  place  with 
snow,  the  himters  threw  water  over  it  until  it  froze  into  a  solid 
mass,  then  they  removed  the  stakes  from  the  runways  and 
left  the  rest  of  the  beavers  in  peace.  Loading  their  catch  upon 
their  toboggans,  all  set  out  for  home. 

BEAVER  DAMS  AND  CANALS 

Besides  erecting  their  remarkably  strong  houses  there  are 
two  other  ways  in  which  the  beavers  display  wonderful  skill: 
in  the  building  of  their  dams  and  in  the  excavating  of  their 
canals.  Their  dams  are  built  for  the  purpose  of  retarding,  rais- 
ing, and  storing  water,  in  order — in  summer  time — to  circum- 
vent their  enemies  by  placing  a  well-watered  moat  between 
their  foe  and  their  castle;  also  to  flood  a  wider  area  so  that 
the  far-reaching  waters  of  their  pond  may  lap  close  to  the  roots 
of  many  otherwise  inaccessible  trees  and  thus  enable  them  to 
fell  and  float  them  to  their  lodge;  and — ^in  winter  time — to  raise 
the  water  high  enough  to  secm^e  their  pond  from  freezing  sohd 
and  imprisoning  them  in  their  lodges  where  they  would  starve 
to  death,  or  if  they  gnawed  their  way  to  freedom,  the  intense 
cold  of  mid-winter  would  freeze  their  hairless  tails  and  cause 
their  death;  furthermore,  should  they  escape  from  the  weather, 
they  would  be  at  the  mercy  of  all  their  enemies  and  would  not 
long  survive. 

A  dam,  in  the  beginning,  is  usually  erected  in  a  small  way, 
just  to  raise  and  expand  the  waters  of  some  small  creek  or  even 
those  of  a  spring;  then,  as  the  years  go  by,  it  is  constantly  added 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  125 

to,  to  increase  the  depth  and  expansion  of  the  pond,  and  thus 
the  dam  grows  from  a  small  one  of  a  few  yards  in  length  to  a 
big  one  of  several  hmidred  feet — sometimes  to  even  fom-  or  five 
hmidred  feet  in  length — that  may  bank  up  the  water  four  or 
five  feet  above  the  stream  just  outside  the  dam,  and  turn  the 
pond  into  a  great  reservoir  covering  hundreds  of  acres  of  land. 

The  dam  is  more  often  built  of  branches  laid  parallel  to  the 
current  with  their  butts  pointing  up  stream,  and  weighted 
down  with  mud  and  stones;  thus  layer  after  layer  is  added  until 
the  structure  rises  to  the  desired  height  and  strength.  Some 
dams  contain  hundreds  of  tons  of  material.  They  are  usually 
built  upon  a  soHd  bottom,  not  of  rock — ^though  big,  stationary 
boulders  often  are  included  in  the  construction  for  the  extra 
support  they  furnish.  When  thus  used,  boulders  often  cause 
the  beavers  to  divert  the  line  of  the  dam  out  of  its  usual  graceful 
and  scientific  curve  that  well  withstands  the  pressure  from 
even  a  large  body  of  water. 

The  beavers  excavate  canals — sometimes  hundreds  of  feet 
in  length — to  enable  them  to  reach  more  easily  and  float  home 
the  wood  they  have  cut  from  freshly  felled  trees  lying  far 
beyond  the  reaches  of  their  pond.  The  canals  measure  from 
two  to  three  feet  in  width  and  a  foot  to  a  foot  and  a  half  in 
depth,  and  are  not  only  surprisingly  clean-cut  and  straight 
but  occasionally  they  are  even  provided  with  locks,  or  rather 
little  dams,  to  raise  the  water  from  one  level  to  another — 
generally  about  a  foot  at  a  time — to  offset  the  disadvantage  of 
the  wood  lying  on  higher  and  more  distant  groimd  than  is 
reached  by  the  waters  of  the  residential  pond.  Sometimes 
their  canals  are  fed  by  springs,  but  more  often  by  the  drainage 
of  rainwater.  The  building  of  many  of  their  dams  and  canals 
displays  remarkable  skill  and  a  fine  sense  of  engineering,  to- 
gether with  a  spirit  of  perseverance  that  is  astounding.  Is  it 
any  wonder  that  the  Indians  say  that  the  beavers  were  once 
human  beings,  whom,  for  the  punishment  of  some  miscon- 


126  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

duct,  The  Master  of  Life  condemned  to  get  down  and  grovel 
upon  the  ground  as  four-footed  animals  for  the  rest  of  their 
days. 

"Yes,  my  son,"  replied  Oo-koo-hoo,  when  we  were  discussing 
beavers,  "they  are  a  very  clever  and  a  very  wise  people,  and  it 
would  be  better  for  us  if  we  emulated  them  more  than  we  do, 
for  as  you  know,  they  beheve  in  not  talking  but  in  working  and 
making  good  use  of  the  brains  The  Master  of  Life  has  given 
them,  and  that  is  the  only  way  to  be  really  happy  in  this  world. 
Besides,  he  is  always  true  to  his  wife — a  fine  example  to  men — 
furthermore,  he  is  a  good  provider  who  looks  after  his  children, 
and  is  a  decent,  clean-Hving  fellow  who  never  goes  out  of  his 
way  to  quarrel  with  any  one,  but  just  minds  his  own  business 
and  cuts  wood." 

Could  any  nation  choose  a  creature  more  fit  for  a  national 
emblem?  I  beheve  not.  For  would  any  wise  man  compare 
a  useless,  screeching  eagle,  or  a  useless,  roaring  lion — each  a 
creature  of  prey — to  a  silent,  hard-working,  and  useful  beaver 
who  remains  true  to  his  wife  all  his  life,  who  builds  a  comfortable 
home  for  his  children,  provides  them  well  with  food  and  teaches 
them  .  .  .  not  how  to  kill  other  creatures  .  .  .  but 
how  to  work,  .  .  .  how  to  construct  strong,  comfortable 
houses,  how  to  build  dams  to  protect,  not  only  their  children, 
but  their  homes,  too,  how  to  chop  down  trees  for  food,  how  to  dig 
canals  to  float  the  food  home,  how  to  store  it  for  the  winter,  how 
to  keep  the  home  clean  and  in  good  order,  how  to  mind  their 
own  business  and  never  seek  a  quarrel,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
how  to  defend  themselves  desperately  if  an  enemy  attacks 
them. 

For  his  size,  the  beaver  is  powerful,  so  powerful,  indeed,  that 
Oo-koo-hoo  said:  "Remember,  my  son,  the  beaver  is  a  very 
strong  animal,  he  can  drag  a  man  after  him,  and  the  only  way 
for  a  hunter  to  hold  him — if  he  is  caught  in  a  trap — is  to  lift 
him  off  his  feet." 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  127 

Notwithstanding  his  great  strength,  however,  he  is  a  peace- 
loving  chap,  but  when  a  just  occasion  arises,  you  ought  to  see 
him  fight! 

BEAVER  FIGHTS  WOLVERINE 

One  spring  while  hunting  along  a  river,  some  years  ago, 
Oo-koo-hoo  discovered  a  beaver  at  work  upon  the  bank,  and 
¥nshing  to  observe  him  for  a  while,  kept  perfectly  still.  The 
beaver  was  cutting  poplar  sticks  to  take  them  through  a  hole 
in  the  ice  to  the  under-water  entrance  of  his  near-by  home  for 
his  family  to  feed  upon.  But  presently  Oo-koo-hoo  discovered 
another  moving  object;  it  was  a  wolverine,  and  it  was  stalking 
the  beaver.  When  it  drew  near  enough  to  the  unsuspecting 
worker,  it  made  a  sudden  spring  and  landed  upon  his  back. 
A  desperate  fight  ensued.  The  wolverine  was  trying  to  cut  the 
spinal  cord  at  the  back  of  the  beaver's  neck;  but  the  short,  stout 
neck  caused  trouble,  and  before  the  wolverine  had  managed  it, 
the  beaver,  realizing  that  the  only  chance  for  life  was  to  make 
for  the  water-hole,  lunged  toward  it,  and  with  the  wolverine 
still  on  his  back,  dived  in.  On  being  submerged,  the  wolverine 
let  go  and  swam  around  and  around  in  an  effort  to  get  out;  but 
the  beaver,  now  in  his  element,  took  advantage  of  the  fact,  and 
rising  beneath  the  foe,  leaped  at  it,  and  with  one  bite  of  his 
powerful,  chisel-like  teeth,  gripped  it  by  the  throat,  then  let 
go  and  sank  to  watch  it  bleed  to  death.  A  Httle  later,  the 
beaver  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  old  Oo-koo-hoo  walk  off 
with  the  wolverine's  skin. 

No  .  .  .  beavers  do  not  beheve  in  divorce  .  .  . 
and  on  their  wedding  day — usually  in  February — they  promise 
to  be  true  to  each  other  for  the  rest  of  their  Uves,  and,  more- 
over, unlike  many  human  beings,  they  keep  their  promise. 
About  three  months  later  the  husband,  seeing  his  wife  is  getting 
ready  to  welcome  new  relations,  leaves  his  comfortable  home 
just  to  be  out  of  the  way,  and  takes  up  new  quarters  in  a  hole 


128  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

in  the  river  bank.  While  he  is  there  the  children — any  number 
from  one  to  six — arrive,  and  then  can  be  heard  much  gentle 
whimpering,  just  as  though  human  babies  were  now  Hving  in 
the  old  homestead. 

When  the  beaver  children  grow  older  they  romp  in  the  water 
much  as  puppies  do  on  land.  If  danger  approaches,  the  first 
beaver  to  sense  it  slaps  the  surface  of  the  water  with  his  broad, 
powerful  tail,  making  a  noise  that  resounds  through  the  forest 
as  though  a  strong  man  had  struck  the  water  a  violent  blow  with 
the  broad  side  of  a  paddle  blade.  Instantly  the  first  beaver's 
nearest  companion  signals  the  danger  to  others  by  doing  the 
same;  then  a  second  later  they  plunge  out  of  sight  in  the  water 
and  leave  behind  nothing  but  a  great  sound — as  though  an 
elephant  had  fallen  in. 

When  married  and  settled  down,  the  beaver  is  very  domestic 
— a  great  stay-at-home — ^but  when  seeking  a  mate,  he  travels 
far  and  wide,  and  leaves  here  and  there  along  the  shore  scent 
signals,  in  the  hope  of  more  easily  attracting  and  winning  a 
bride.  Beavers  are  full  grown  at  three  years  of  age,  and  by  that 
time  they  have  learned  how  to  erect  houses,  build  dams,  dig 
canals,  chop  down  trees,  cut  up  wood,  float  it  home  and  store 
it  for  the  winter,  and  by  that  time  too,  they  have,  no  doubt, 
learned  that  man  is  their  worst  enemy,  though  the  wolverine, 
wolf,  otter,  lynx,  and  fisher  are  ever  ready  to  pounce  upon  them 
whenever  a  chance  offers. 

USEFULNESS  OF  BEAVER 

But  I  had  almost  forgotten  that  I  owed  the  reader  an  ex- 
planation when  I  said  that  the  beaver  was  a  very  useful  crea- 
ture. I  was  not  thinking  of  the  value  of  his  fur,  because  that 
is  as  nothing  compared  to  the  great  service  he  has  been  render- 
ing mankind,  not  only  to-day,  but  for  endless  generations. 
How.^^    By  the  great  work  he  has  been  doing  during  the  past 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  129 

hundreds  and  thousands  of  years.  How?  By  going  into  rocky, 
useless  valleys  and  building  the  dams  that  checked  the  rushing 
rivers  that  were  constantly  robbing  much  rich  soil  from  the 
surrounding  country  and  carrying  it  down  and  out  to  sea.  And 
his  dams,  moreover,  not  only  held  up  those  treacherous  highway- 
men, but  took  the  loot  from  them  and  let  it  settle  in  the  valleys, 
where,  as  years  rolled  on,  it  grew  and  grew  into  endless  great 
expansions  of  level  meadow  lands  that  now  afford  much  of  the 
most  fertile  farming  soil  to  be  found  in  North  America;  and 
thus  the  great  industry  of  those  silent  workers,  who  hved  ages 
and  ages  ago,  is  even  to-day  benefiting  mankind.  And  thus, 
too,  that  great  work  is  being  steadily  carried  on  by  the  living 
beavers  of  to-day.  Could  any  country  in  the  world  have  chosen 
a  more  inspiring  creature  than  Canada  has  chosen  for  her 
national  symbol? 

When,  on  his  fall  and  spring  expeditions,  Oo-koo-hoo  was 
hunting  beavers  with  the  waters  free  of  ice,  he  placed  steel  traps 
in  their  runways,  either  just  below  the  surface  of  the  water,  or 
on  the  bank;  and  the  only  bait  he  used  in  both  cases  was  the 
rubbing  of  castorum  on  near-by  bushes.  Also,  he  built  dead- 
falls much  like  those  he  built  for  bear,  but  of  course  much 
smaller;  and  again  the  bait  was  castorum,  but  this  time  it  was 
rubbed  on  a  bit  of  rabbit  skin  which  was  then  attached  to  the 
bait  stick  of  the  deadfall.  The  deadfalls  he  built  for  beavers 
were  nearly  always  made  of  dead  tamarack — ^never  of  green 
poplar — otherwise  the  beavers  would  have  pulled  them  to 
pieces  for  the  sake  of  the  wood. 

Further,  Oo-koo-hoo  told  me  that  in  the  spring  he  sometimes 
broke  open  beaver  dams  and  set  traps  near  the  breaks  in  order 
to  catch  the  beavers  when  they  came  to  repair  the  damage. 
Such  a  mode  of  trapping  was,  he  said,  equally  successful 
whether  or  not  there  was  ice  upon  the  water.  He  also  told  me 
that  he  had  seen  other  Indians  catch  beaver  with  a  net  made  of 
No.  10  twine,  with  a  three-and-a-half-inch  mesh,  but  that, 


130  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

though  the  method  worked  rather  well,  he  had  never  tried  it. 
The  way  of  all  others,  that  he  liked  best,  was  to  hunt  them 
by  calling,  and  the  best  time  for  that  was  during  the  mornings 
and  evenings  of  the  rutting  season. 

Later  in  the  year,  when  the  ice  is  gone,  and  the  beaver  is 
swimming,  say  a  foot  under  water,  the  hunter  can  easily  follow 
his  course  from  the  appearance  of  the  surface.  The  same 
apphes  to  the  muskrat,  mink,  and  otter.  Muskrats  and  beav- 
ers swim  much  alike,  as  they  are  usually  going  in  search  of 
roots,  and,  knowing  exactly  where  to  find  them,  they  swim 
straight;  but  minks  and  otters  swim  a  zig-zag  course  for  the 
reason  that  they  are  always  looking  for  fish  and  therefore  are 
constantly  turning  their  heads  about;  and  that  rule  apphes 
whether  their  heads  are  above  or  below  the  surface. 

When  a  beaver — ^providing  he  has  not  slapped  the  water  with 
his  tail — or  an  otter  dives,  an  observant  hunter  can  judge  fairly 
well  as  to  where  the  animal  is  heading  for,  by  simply  noting  the 
twist  of  the  tail,  a  point  that  helps  the  hunter  to  gauge  the 
place  where  it  may  rise.  The  same  applies  to  whales  when  they 
sound,  though  I  found — ^while  whale  hunting — that  few  whalers 
realized  it,  and  fewer  still  took  advantage  of  it,  for  much  time 
was  lost  while  waiting  for  the  whale  to  rise  before  the  boat  could 
be  headed  in  the  right  direction.  But  then  the  average  Indian 
is  much  more  observant  than  the  average  white  man. 

If  a  beaver  is  caught  in  a  steel  trap,  he  will  do  his  utmost 
to  plunge  into  water  and  remain  there  even  though  he  should 
drown,  yet  his  house  may  not  be  in  that  river  or  pond;  but 
if  he  is  wounded,  he  will  either  try  to  reach  his  house  or  take  to 
the  woods. 

When  in  pursuit  of  beavers  it  is  advisable  to  watch  for  them 
on  moonlight  nights  about  eight  or  nine  o'clock,  and  it  is  best 
to  be  in  a  canoe,  as  then  there  is  less  danger  of  the  beaver  sink- 
ing before  he  can  be  removed  from  the  water.  The  hunter, 
while  waiting  for  a  shot,  makes  a  noise  with  the  handle  of  his 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  131 

knife  against  a  stick  in  imitation  of  a  beaver  cutting  wood — 
a  sound  somewhat  similar  to  that  of  the  boring  of  a  large  auger. 
It  is  astonishing  how  far,  on  a  still  night,  beavers  will  hear  such 
a  sound  and  come  to  help  their  friends  at  work.  When  Oo-koo- 
hoo  shot  beaver  he  charged  his  gim  with  four  slugs  and  fired  for 
the  head,  as  he  explained  that  ordinary  shot  was  too  fine  and 
scattered  too  much,  while  a  single  ball  was  too  large. 

OO-KOO-HOO  SHOOTS  A  BEAR 

The  following  morning  Oo-koo-hoo  and  I  set  out  to  go  the 
round  of  the  northern  trapping  trail  which  for  some  distance 
followed  the  valley  of  Beaver  River,  upon  the  bank  of  which 
traps,  snares,  and  deadfalls  for  bears  were  set.  Along  that 
section  of  the  river  there  were  also  traps  set  for  otters,  beavers, 
and  muskrats;  but  the  hunting  of  these  amphibious  animals 
was  pursued  with  more  dihgence  in  the  spring  than  in  the 
winter.  Though  we  hauled  a  hunting  toboggan,  the  snow 
was  not  yet  deep  enough  for  snowshoes,  but  what  a  feast 
of  reading  the  forest  afforded  us !  What  tragedies  were  written 
in  the  snow !  Here  we  followed  a  mink's  track  as  it  skirted  the 
river  bank  that  wound  in  and  out  among  the  trees,  showing  that 
the  mink  had  leaped  here,  crouched  there,  or  had  been  scratch- 
ing beyond  in  the  snow.  Evidently  it  was  in  search  of  food. 
Presently  we  noticed  another  track,  that  of  an  ermine.  The 
two  trails  were  converging.  Now,  apparently,  the  mink  had 
seen  its  enemy,  and,  therefore,  in  order  to  get  past  the  ermine 
and  escape  trouble,  it  had  increased  its  speed.  At  this  point 
the  ermine  had  spied  it  and  had  redoubled  its  speed.  Now 
they  had  both  bounded  along  with  all  their  might.  But  as 
ill-fate  would  have  it,  they  had  met.  A  violent  struggle  had 
ensued.  Blood  was  spattered  upon  the  snow.  From  the 
battle-ground  only  one  trail  led  away.  It  was  that  of  the 
ermine.      But  though  the  snow  was  marked  by  the  footprints 


132  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

of  only  one  animal,  the  trail  of  two  tails  plainly  showed.  It 
was  evident  that  the  ermine  had  seized  its  victim  by  the  throat 
and  throwing  it  over  its  back,  had  carried  it  away.  Many 
other  tracks  of  beasts  and  birds  were  printed  upon  the  snow  and 
told  in  vivid  detail  stories  of  life  in  the  winter  wilderness. 

Beaver  River  was  now  frozen  firmly  enough  to  bear  a  man, 
except  in  a  few  places  where  rapid  water  kept  the  ice  thin  or 
left  the  stream  open;  and  as  we  tramped  along  we  examined 
a  number  of  traps,  from  two  of  which  we  took  an  otter  and  a 
beaver.  But  the  bear  and  the  wolf  traps  remained  undisturbed 
though  we  saw  a  number  of  wolf  tracks  near  at  hand.  Turning 
westward  we  ascended  a  slope  and  came  suddenly  upon  the 
fresh  track  of  a  bear.  It  was  fairly  large,  and  was  travelling 
slowly;  merely  sauntering  along  as  though  looking  for  a  den 
in  which  to  pass  the  winter. 

At  once  Oo-koo-hoo  was  all  alert.  Carefully  re-charging  his 
gun  with  ball,  and  seeing  that  his  knife  and  axe  were  at  hand, 
he  left  the  toboggan  behind,  lest  it  make  a  noise  among  the 
trees  and  alarm  the  quarry.  In  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile, 
however,  we  came  upon  a  sign  that  the  bear  had  passed  but  a 
few  minutes  before.  The  hunter  paused  to  suggest  that  it  would 
better  his  approach  if  I  were  to  follow  a  httle  farther  in  the 
rear;  then  he  noiselessly  continued  his  pursuit.  Slowly  he 
moved  forward,  cautiously  avoiding  the  snapping  of  a  twig  or 
the  scraping  of  underbrush.  After  peering  through  the 
shrubbery  ahead  or  halting  a  moment  to  reexamine  the  track, 
he  would  move  on  again,  but  with  scarcely  any  perceptible 
motion  of  the  upper  part  of  his  body.  When  in  doubt,  he 
would  stand  stock-still  and  try  by  sight  or  hearing  to  get  news 
of  the  bear.  Luckily,  there  was  no  wind,  so  it  made  Httle  differ- 
ence which  way  we  turned  in  following  the  trail.  But  just 
then  there  happened  a  disturbing  and  irritating  thing,  for  a 
whiskey  jack — Canada  Jay — took  to  following  us,  and  chirping 
about  it,  too.    Crossing  a  rocky  patch  on  the  hillside,  the  bear 


2^-^  52  -  '^  =: 


sS-tS 


-ft»  •«  "^   ^   fe  «c   <aj 


ctS.F 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  133 

came  into  view  as  it  circled  a  little  in  order  to  descend.  Pres- 
ently it  left  the  shadow  of  the  forest  and  emerging  into  smi- 
light  on  a  snow-covered  ledge,  turned  its  head  as  though  it  had 
heard  a  sound  in  the  rear.     It  was  Oo-koo-hoo  speaking: 

"Turn  your  head  away,  my  brother  .  .  . "  but  the  report 
of  his  gun  cut  short  his  sentence,  and  the  bear,  leaping  forward, 
disappeared  among  the  growth  below.  Re-loading  his  gun, 
the  hunter  slowly  followed,  more  cautiously  than  ever,  for  he 
saw  from  the  blood  upon  the  snow  that  the  beast  was  wounded 
and,  therefore,  dangerous.  As  he  went  he  covered  every  likely 
place  with  his  gun,  lest  the  bear  should  be  lurking  there  and 
rush  at  him.  At  last  I  saw  him  pause  much  longer  than  usual, 
then  move  forward  again.  Finally  he  turned,  and  in  a  satisfied 
tone  exclaimed :  '  *  It's  dead  1" 

The  ball  had  struck  just  behind  the  left  shoulder  and  had 
entered  the  heart;  and  the  hunter  explained  that  when  he  saw 
his  best  chance,  he  spoke  to  the  bear  to  make  it  pause  in  order 
to  better  his  aim. 

"And  what  did  you  say  to  him.^" 

"My  son,  I  said:  Turn  your  eyes  away,  my  brother,  for  I 
am  about  to  kill  you.'  I  never  care  to  fire  at  a  bear  without 
first  teUing  him  how  sorry  I  am  that  I  need  his  coat." 

Then  the  skinning  began,  and  by  noon  we  had  it  finished. 
Loading  the  head  and  part  of  the  meat  on  the  sled,  I  hauled  it, 
while  the  hunter  rolled  up  the  heavy  pelt  and  packed  it  upon 
his  back  with  the  aid  of  a  tump-line.  Taking  our  loads  back  to 
the  river  and  caching  them  there,  we  continued  along  the 
trapping  trail. 

A  DEADFALL  FOR  BEAR 

Soon  we  came  to  one  of  the  best  deadfalls  I  had  ever  seen. 
It  was  set  for  bear,  and  was  of  the  "log-house"  kind,  with 
walls  nearly  six  feet  high,  and  a  base  that  was  eight  feet  long 
by  five  feet  wide  in  front,  while  only  two  feet  in  width  in  the 


134  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

rear.  It  was  built  in  conjunction  with  two  standing  trees  that 
formed  the  two  corner  posts  retaining  the  huge  drop-log.  The 
front  of  the  big  trap  was  left  quite  open,  save  for  the  drop-log 
that  crossed  it  obliquely.  While  the  thin  end  of  the  log  was 
staked  to  the  groimd,  the  thick  end,  loaded  with  a  platform 
weighted  with  stones,  projected  beyond  the  far  side  of  the  trap 
at  a  height  of  about  five  feet  from  the  ground.  It  was  ready 
to  fall  and  crush  any  imlucky  creature  that  might  venture 
in  and  touch  the  bait-trigger.  Whatever  the  drop-log  might 
fall  upon,  it  would  hold  as  though  in  a  vise,  and  if  the  bear 
were  not  already  dead  when  the  hunter  should  arrive,  he  would 
take  care  to  shoot  the  animal  in  the  head  before  removing  the 
drop-log. 

Snares  are  also  set  for  bears,  and  the  best  of  them  are  made 
of  twenty  strands  of  babiche  twisted  into  the  form  of  a 
rope.  The  loop  is  set  about  eighteen  inches  in  diameter,  and  is 
attached  to  either  a  spring-pole  or  a  tossing-pole — or,  more 
correctly  speaking,  a  tree  sufficiently  large  to  raise  and  support 
the  weight  of  the  bear.  Sometimes  a  guiding-pole  is  used  in 
connection  with  a  snare.  One  end  is  planted  in  the  ground  in 
the  centre  of  the  path  and  the  other,  slanting  up  toward  the 
snare,  is  used  as  a  guide  toward  the  loop,  since  a  bear  walking 
forward  would  straddle  the  pole.  In  a  further  effort  to  getting 
the  animal's  head  in  the  right  place,  the  himter  smears  the 
upper  end  of  the  pole  with  syrup. 

Another  wooden  trap  is  that  of  the  stump  and  wedge.  It 
is  made  by  chopping  down  a  tree  of  not  less  than  half  a  foot  in 
diameter,  so  that  a  stump  is  left  about  six  feet  high.  The 
stump  is  then  spht,  and  a  long,  tapering  wedge,  well  greased,  is 
driven  in,  and  upon  it  is  smeared  a  coating  of  syrup  or  honey 
as  a  bait.  The  bear  will  not  only  try  to  Hck  off  the  bait,  but  in 
his  eagerness  to  pull  out  the  wedge  and  hck  it,  too,  will  spring 
the  trap  and  find  a  paw  caught  between  the  closing  stump. 
Also,  the  Indians  sometimes  use  a  stage  from  the  top  of  which 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  135 

they  shoot  the  bear  at  night  while  he  passes  on  his  runway; 
and  to  attract  the  bear  they  imitate  the  cry  of  a  cub  in  distress. 
Steel  traps,  too,  are  set  for  bears.  They  are  very  strong  with 
big  double  springs  and  weigh  about  twenty  pounds.  They, 
too,  are  set  on  the  runway  of  the  bears,  and  are  carefully 
covered  with  leaves  or  moss.  No  bait  is  used  on  the  trap,  but 
syrup  or  honey  is  spread  upon  a  near-by  tree  to  induce  the  bear 
to  step  in  the  trap. 

MARASTY  AND   THE   BEAR 

But  all  bear  traps  are  dangerous  to  mankind  and  not  in- 
frequently a  man  is  caught  in  one.  In  1899  a  half-breed 
hunter  by  the  name  of  Marasty,  who  Hved  near  Green  Lake, 
about  150  miles  north  of  Prince  Albert,  went  one  late  spring  day 
to  visit  his  traps,  and  in  the  course  of  his  trip  came  upon  one  of 
his  deadfalls  set  for  bear,  from  which  he  noticed  the  bait  had 
been  removed,  although  the  trap  had  not  been  sprung.  Before 
rebgdting  it,  however,  he  buUt  a  fire  to  boil  his  tea-pail,  and  sat 
down  to  eat  his  lunch. 

After  refreshment,  Marasty,  being  a  lazy  man,  decided  to 
enter  the  trap  from  in  front,  instead  of  first  opening  up  the 
rear  and  entering  from  that  quarter,  as  he  should  have  done. 
He  got  along  all  right  until  he  started  to  back  out,  when  in 
some  way  he  jarred  the  trigger,  and,  just  as  he  was  all  free  of 
the  ground-log  save  his  right  arm,  down  came  the  ponderous 
drop-log  with  its  additional  weight  of  platform  and  stones.  It 
caught  hiTTi  just  above  the  elbow,  crushed  his  arm  flat,  and 
held  him  a  prisoner  in  excruciating  pain.  The  poor  wretch 
nearly  swooned.  Later,  he  thought  of  his  knife.  He  would 
try  to  cut  the  log  in  two  and  thus  free  himself.  He  knew  that, 
handicapped  as  he  was,  though  he  worked  feverishly  and 
incessantly,  the  task  would  demand  many  hours  of  furious  toil. 

After  a  while  the  wind  arose  and  re-kindled  his  dying  fire 


136  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

into  life.  The  sparks  flew  up  and  the  flames  ran  over  the  dry 
moss  toward  him.  Now  there  was  added  the  dread  of  being 
bmut  alive.  But  he  worked  his  feet  violently  and  succeeded 
in  roughening  the  ground  sufficiently  to  turn  the  fire  so  that 
it  passed  on  either  side  of  him,  and  though  it  continued  beyond 
the  wooden  trap,  eventuaUy  died  down. 

Then  he  went  on  with  his  cutting,  but  night  came  on  before 
he  had  dug  into  the  log  more  than  a  few  inches.  Growing 
faint,  he  rested  awhile,  and  later  fell  asleep.  When  he  awoke, 
he  discovered  a  full-grown  black  bear  sitting  upon  its  haunches 
watching  him.  He  shouted  to  drive  the  beast  away,  but, 
strange  to  say,  the  noise  did  not  frighten  the  bear,  for  several 
times  it  got  up  and  attempted  to  reach  the  syrup  on  the  trap. 
When  the  captive  renewed  his  shouting  and  kicking,  the  bear 
merely  stepped  back,  sat  down,  and  persisted  in  maintaining 
its  fearsome  watch  all  night.  Nevertheless,  the  half-breed  was 
afraid  to  stop  shouting,  so  he  kept  it  up  at  intervals  all  night 
long.    When,  however,  dawn  came,  the  bear  went  away. 

At  sunrise  Marasty  renewed  his  efforts  to  escape,  and  though 
his  hand  was  now  blistered  and  sore,  he  worked  for  several 
hours.  Then  thirst  attacked  him;  and  he  dug  in  the  ground, 
but  without  avail,  in  the  hope  of  finding  moisture.  Again  he 
turned  to  the  cutting  of  the  log,  but  soon  exhaustion  weakened 
his  exertions.  Night  came  on  again  and  with  it  came  the 
bear;  but  this  time  he  was  glad  to  see  the  brute,  for  its  presence 
made  him  feel  less  lonely  and  drove  away  despair.  This  time, 
too,  the  bear  sat  around  in  such  a  friendly  way,  that  Marasty 
felt  reheved  enough  to  sing  some  hymns  and  do  a  Httle  pray- 
ing; but  when  he  began  to  sing  a  second  time,  the  big  black 
beast  lost  patience,  got  up  and  walked  away,  much  to  the 
regret  of  the  imprisoned  hunter. 

In  the  morning  the  now  almost  lifeless  Marasty  heard  in 
the  distance  the  voice  of  his  brother  caUing  his  name;  but 
though  he  shouted  wildly  in  answer,  no  response  came,  for  the 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  137 

wind  was  blowing  in  the  wrong  direction,  and  defeated  his 
attempt  to  benefit  by  the  help  that  was  so  near.  Later,  the 
imhappy  man  swooned. 

About  noon  the  brother,  finding  the  suEFerer's  trail,  arrived 
upon  th^  scene,  removed  the  drop-log,  picked  up  the  uncon- 
scious man,  and  carrying  him  to  his  canoe,  cut  away  the  thwarts 
and  laid  him  in.  After  a  paddle  of  fifteen  miles  to  the  portage 
landing,  he  left  the  stricken  wretch  in  the  canoe,  and  ran  four 
miles  to  get  help.  With  other  men  and  two  horses  he  speedily 
returned,  rigged  up  a  stage  swung  between  the  horses,  and  lay- 
ing Marasty  thereon,  transported  him  through  the  bush  to  his 
home. 

In  the  meantime,  an  express  had  been  despatched  to  Prince 
Albert  to  summon  a  doctor;  but  the  old  Indian  women  could 
not  bear  to  wait  so  long  for  the  coming  of  rehef ,  so  fihng  a  big 
knife  into  a  fine-toothed  saw,  they  cut  away  the  bruised  flesh 
and  sawed  off  the  broken  bones.  They  made  a  clean  amputa- 
tion which  they  dressed  with  a  poultice  made  from  well-boiled 
inner  bark  of  juniper,  and  not  only  did  no  mortification  set  in, 
but  the  arm  healed  nicely;  and  when  the  doctor  arrived  ten 
days  later,  he  examined  the  amputation  carefully  and  said  that 
there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do:  the  old  women  had  done  their 
work  so  well.  Marasty  quickly  recovered,  and  next  winter  he 
was  on  the  hunting  trail  again. 

HOW  BEARS    ARE  HUNTED 

After  spending  three  days  upon  the  trapping  trail  we  re- 
turned to  camp;  but  because  our  toboggan  was  loaded  with 
game,  and  also  because  we  did  not  return  by  our  outgoing  route, 
the  grandmother  and  the  two  boys  set  out  to  bring  in  the  bear 
meat  and  the  bear's  head.  During  the  feast  that  followed 
Oo-koo-hoo  addressed  the  bear's  head  with  superstitious  awe 
and  again  begged  it  not  to  be  offended  or  angry  because  it  had 


138  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

been  killed  since  they  needed  both  its  coat  and  its  fat  and  flesh 
to  help  tide  them  over  the  winter.  In  this  entreaty  Amik 
did  not  join — ^perhaps  because  he  was  too  civihzed.  After  the 
meal,  the  skull  was  hung  upon  a  branch  of  a  pine  that  stood 
near  the  lodges.  It  reminded  me  that  once  I  had  seen  at  an 
old  camping  place  eleven  bear  skulls  upon  a  single  branch; 
but  the  sight  of  bear  skulls  upon  trees  is  not  uncommon  when 
one  is  travelhng  through  the  Strong  Woods  Country. 

That  night,  when  I  was  sitting  beside  Oo-koo-hoo,  we  began 
talking  about  bear  himting  and  he  said:  "My  son,  some  day 
you,  too,  may  want  to  become  a  great  bear-hunter,  and  when 
you  do  go  out  to  hunt  alone,  don't  do  as  I  do,  but  do  as  I  say, 
for  I  am  growing  old  and  am  sometimes  careless  about  the  way 
I  approach  game."  Puffing  away  at  his  pipe,  he  presently 
continued:  "In  trailing  bear,  the  hunter's  method  of  approach, 
of  course,  depends  entirely  upon  the  information  he  has  gained 
from  the  tracks  he  has  discovered.  If  the  hunter  sees  the 
bear  without  being  seen,  he  will  approach  to  within  about 
twenty  paces  or  even  ten  of  the  brute  before  he  fires;  being, 
however,  always  careful  to  keep  some  object  between  him  and 
his  quarry.  And  when  he  does  fire,  he  should  not  wait  to  see 
the  effect,  but  should  immediately  run  aside  for  a  distance  of 
fifteen  or  twenty  paces,  as  the  first  thing  a  bear  does  when  it 
is  shot  is  to  bite  the  wound  on  account  of  the  pain,  next  it  tries 
to  discover  who  hit  it,  and  remembering  from  which  direction 
the  sound  came,  it  looks  up,  and  seeing  the  smoke,  rushes  for 
it.  Then  the  hunter  has  his  opportunity,  for  on  seeing  the 
beast  pass  broadside,  he  fires,  and  thus  stands  a  good  chance  of 
hitting  a  vital  spot. 

"At  a  critical  moment  a  good  hunter's  movements  are  not 
only  swift  but  always  premeditated.  Nor  does  he  ever  treat 
a  bear  with  contempt:  from  first  to  last,  he  is  always  on  guard. 
He  never  takes  a  chance.  Even  if  the  bear  drops  when  the 
hunter  fires,  he  will  immediately  re-load  and  advance  very 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  139 

slowly  lest  the  brute  be  feigning  death.  The  hunter  advances, 
with  his  gun  cocked  and  in  readiness,  to  within  perhaps  five 
paces,  and  then  waits  to  see  if  his  quarry  is  really  dead.  If  the 
bear  is  not  dead  and  sees  that  the  hunter  is  off  his  guard,  the 
chances  are  it  will  rush  at  him.  But  an  experienced  hunter  is 
not  easily  fooled,  for  he  knows  that  if  an  animal  makes  a 
choking  sound  in  its  throat,  caused  by  internal  bleeding,  it  is 
mortally  wounded;  but  if  it  makes  no  such  sound — ^watch 
out!" 

"My  son,  no  animal  is  ever  instantly  killed,  for  there  is 
always  a  gradual  collapse,  or  more  or  less  of  a  movement 
caused  by  the  contraction  of  its  muscles,  before  death  actually 
comes;  but  when  an  animal  feigns  death,  it  is  always  in  too 
much  of  a  hurry  about  it,  and  drops  instantly  without  a  final 
struggle,  or  any  hard  breathing — ^that  is  the  time  when  one 
should  wait  and  be  careful. 

"Then  again,  my  son,  if  a  wounded  or  cornered  bear  comes 
suddenly  upon  a  hunter,  the  beast  will  not  at  once  rush  at  him, 
grab  him  or  bite  him,  but  will  instantly  draw  back,  just  as  the 
hunter  will  do;  then  it  will  sit  up  upon  its  haunches  for  a 
moment,  as  though  to  think  over  the  situation;  that  pause, 
shght  as  it  is,  gives  the  hunter  a  moment  to  uncover  his  gun, 
cock  it,  and  £iim,  and  fire  it  at  the  beast's  mouth.  In  such  a 
situation  the  hunter  prefers  to  fire  at  its  mouth,  because  if  shot 
in  the  heart,  the  bear  can  still  lunge  at  the  hunter  before  it 
falls,  but  if  struck  in  the  mouth,  the  brute  is  dazed  and  stops 
to  rub  its  face;  meanwhile,  the  hunter  has  a  chance  to  re-load 
and  try  for  a  shot  behind  the  ear,  as  that  is  even  more  fatal  than 
one  in  the  heart.  But  if  the  bear  happens  to  be  in  a  tree,  the 
hunter  does  not  try  for  either  the  brain  or  the  heart,  because 
the  former  is  usually  out  of  aim,  and  the  latter  is  protected  by 
the  trunk  or  limb  of  the  tree;  so  he  shoots  at  the  small  of  the 
back  for  that  will  paralyze  it  and  cause  it  to  let  go  hold  of  the 
tree,  and  drop  to  the  ground.    The  fall  will  leave  very  little 


140  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

fight  in  it,  or  will  finish  it  altogether.  But  if  hit  in  the  head  or 
even  in  a  paw,  the  chances  are  that  the  bear  will  jump;  and 
then  watch  out,  for  it  will  either  run  or  fight! 

"In  hunting  bears,  however,  the  hunter  must  remember  that 
he  should  guard  most  against  scent  and  sound  betraying  him, 
since  a  bear's  sight  is  not  very  keen.  If  the  bear  happens  to  be 
feeding,  the  hunter  may  easily  approach,  provided  that  the  wind 
is  right  and  he  keeps  quiet;  but  if  the  bear  hears  the  slightest 
sound  or  catches  a  single  whiff  of  scent — away  he  goes!  If, 
however,  the  hunter  approaches  in  an  open  place  and  the  bear, 
seeing  him,  sits  up  to  get  a  better  look,  the  himter  should 
immediately  stand  perfectly  still,  and  wait  thus  until  the  bear 
again  resumes  feeding  or  moves  away.  Then  the  hunter  rushes 
forward,  but  all  the  while  watches  keenly  to  see  when  it  stops 
to  look  again;  and  at  the  first  sign  of  that  the  hunter  becomes 
rigid  once  more.  Such  tactics  may  be  successful  two  or  three 
times  but  rarely  more,  so  then  the  hunter  had  best  fire.  Now, 
my  son,  when  you  go  hunting  you  will  know  what  to  do,  and  if 
Amik  would  only  pay  attention  to  what  I  say,  he,  too,  might 
become  a  better  hunter,  for  I  have  had  much  experience  in 
hunting  both  black  and  grizzly  bears." 

NEYKIA  AND   HER   LOVER 

As  the  weeks  passed,  the  children  devoted  themselves  to 
their  winter  play  and  spent  most  of  their  days  in  the  open  air. 
Tobogganing  was  their  greatest  sport.  Often  did  they  invite 
me  to  take  part  in  this,  and  whenever,  in  descending  a  slope, 
a  sled-load  was  upset,  it  always  created  hilarious  laughter. 

The  younger  children,  even  during  the  severest  part  of  the 
winter  when  it  registered  forty  or  more  degrees  below  zero, 
were  always  kept  comfortably  warm,  sometimes  uncomfortably 
warm,  in  the  rabbit-skin  coats  that  their  mother  and  their 
grandmother  had  made  for  them.    The  rabbit  skins  were  cut 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  141 

into  thin,  spiral  strips  and  twisted,  with  the  hair-side  out,  about 
thin  thongs,  and  woven  together  like  a  small-meshed  fish-net, 
so  that,  though  the  hair  overlapped  and  filled  every  mesh 
completely,  one's  fingers  might  be  passed  through  the  garment 
anywhere.  They  also  made  rabbit-skin  blankets  in  the  same 
way;  and  of  all  blankets  used  in  the  north  woods,  none  has 
so  many  good  qualities.  A  rabbit-skin  blanket  is  less  bulky 
than  that  of  the  caribou  skin ;  it  is  warmer  than  the  famous  four- 
point  woollen  blanket  of  the  H.  B.  Co.,  and  not  only  ventilates 
better  than  either  of  the  others,  but  it  is  fight  to  carry.  It  has 
the  drawback,  however,  that  unless  it  is  enclosed  in  a  covering 
of  some  fight  material,  the  hair  gets  on  everything,  for  as  long 
as  the  blanket  lasts  it  sheds  rabbit  hair.  I  have  tried  many 
kinds  of  beds,  and  many  kinds  of  blankets,  and  sleeping  bags, 
too,  even  the  Eskimo  sleeping  bag  of  double  skin — hairless 
sealskin  on  the  outside  and  hairy  caribou  skin  on  the  inside — 
and  many  a  night  I  have  slept  out  in  the  snow  when  it  was  fifty 
degrees  below  zero,  and  experience  has  taught  me  that  the 
rabbit  skin  blanket  is  best  for  winter  use  in  the  northern  forest. 
A  sleeping  bag  that  is  large  enough  to  get  into  is  too  large  when 
you  are  in  it;  you  cannot  wrap  it  aroimd  you  as  you  can  a 
blanket,  therefore  it  is  not  so  warm;  besides,  it  is  harder  to 
keep  a  bag  free  of  gathering  moisture  than  a  blanket. 

But  to  return  to  the  children.  It  used  to  amuse  me  to  see  the 
boys  returning  from  their  hunts  carrying  their  guns  over  their 
shoulders.  The  contrast  in  size  between  the  weapons  and  the 
bearers  of  them  was  so  great  that  by  comparison  the  lads  looked 
fike  Lifiputians,  yet  with  aU  the  dignified  air  of  great  hunters 
they  would  stalk  up  to  their  sisters  and  hand  them  their  guns 
and  game  bags  to  be  disposed  of  while  they  slipped  oflf  their 
snowshoes,  lighted  their  pipes,  and  entered  the  lodge.  By  the 
way,  I  don't  befieve  I  have  mentioned  that  in  winter  time  the 
gims  are  never  kept  in  the  lodges,  but  always  put  under  cover 
on  the  stages,  as  the  heat  of  the  lodges  would  cause  the  guns  to 


142  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

sweat  and  therefore  to  require  constant  drying  and  oiling; 
and  for  the  same  reason,  in  winter  time,  when  a  hunter  is 
camped  for  the  night,  he  does  not  place  his  gun  near  the  open 
fire,  but  sets  it  back  against  a  tree,  well  out  of  range  of  the  heat. 

On  one  of  their  rounds  of  the  trapping  trails  the  boys  dis- 
covered a  splendid  black  fox  in  one  of  Oo-koo-hoo's  traps, 
and  it  was  with  great  pride  that  the  httle  chaps  returned 
home  with  the  prize. 

One  sunny  day,  late  in  November,  while  tobogganing  with 
the  children  on  the  hillside,  our  sport  was  interrupted  by  the 
approach  of  a  young  stranger,  an  Indian  youth  of  about  seven- 
teen. He  came  tramping  along  on  snowshoes  with  his  little 
hunting  toboggan  behind  him  on  which  was  lashed  his  caribou 
robe,  his  tea-pail,  his  kit  bag,  and  a  haunch  of  young  moose  as  a 
present  to  Amik  and  his  wife.  In  his  hand  he  carried  his  gun 
in  a  moose-skin  case.  He  was  a  good-looking  young  fellow, 
and  wore  the  regulation  cream-coloured  H.  B.  capote  with  hood 
and  turned-back  cuffs  of  dark  blue.  He  wore  no  cap,  but  his 
hair  was  fastened  back  by  a  broad  yellow  ribbon  that  encir- 
cled his  head.  At  first  I  thought  he  was  the  advance  mem- 
ber of  a  hunting  party,  but  when  I  saw  the  bashful  yet 
persistent  way  in  which  he  sidled  up  to  Neykia,  and  when 
I  observed,  too,  the  shy,  radiant  glance  of  welcome  she 
gave  him,  I  understood;  so  also  did  the  children,  but  the 
little  rogues,  instead  of  leaving  the  young  couple  alone,  teased 
their  sister  aloud,  and  foUowed  the  teasing  with  boisterous 
laughter.  It  was  then  that  I  obtained  my  first  impression  of 
the  mating  of  the  natives  of  the  northern  forest.  The  sylvan 
scene  reminded  me  of  the  mating,  too,  of  the  white  people  of 
that  same  region,  and  I  thought  again  of  the  beautiful  Atha- 
basca. Was  it  in  the  same  way  that  her  young  white  man 
had  come  so  many  miles  on  snowshoes  through  the  winter 
woods  just  to  call  upon  her.^^  It  set  me  thinking.  Again,  I 
wondered  who  "Son-in-law"  could  be.^    Whence  did  he  come.^ 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  143 

But,  perhaps,  after  all  he  was  no  super-man,  or,  rather,  super- 
lover,  for  had  not  Neykia's  beau  travelled  alone  in  the  dead  of 
winter,  over  ninety  miles,  just  to  see  her  once  again  and  to 
speak  to  her?  Shing-wauk — ^The  Little  Pine — as  the  Indians 
called  him,  stayed  three  days,  but  I  did  not  see  much  of  him, 
for  I  left  early  the  following  morning  on  another  round  of 
another  trapping-path. 

OO-KOO-HOO  AND  THE  WOLF 

As  a  faint  gray  light  crept  through  the  upper  branches 
of  the  eastern  trees  and  warned  the  denizens  of  the  winter 
wilderness  of  approaching  day,  the  door-skin  flapped  aside 
and  a  tall  figure  stepped  from  the  cozy  fire-Ht  lodge  into  the 
outer  sombreness  of  the  silent  forest.  It  was  Oo-koo-hoo. 
His  form  clad  in  fox-skin  cap,  blanket  capote,  and  leggings,  made 
a  pictm-esque  silhouette  of  hghter  tone  against  the  darker 
shadows  of  the  woods  as  he  stood  for  a  moment  scanning  the 
starry  sky.  Reentering  the  lodge,  he  partook  of  the  breakfast 
his  wife  had  cooked  for  him,  then  he  kissed  her  and  went  out- 
side. Going  to  the  stage,  he  took  down  his  five-foot  snowshoes, 
shpped  his  moccasined  feet  into  the  thongs,  and  with  his  gim 
resting  in  the  hollow  of  his  bemittened  hand,  and  the  sled's 
hauHng-line  over  his  shoulder,  strode  off  through  the  vaulted 
aisles  between  the  boles  of  the  evergreens;  while  through  a  tiny 
sht  in  the  wall  of  his  moose-skin  home  two  loving  eyes  watched 
the  stalwart  figure  vanishing  among  the  trees. 

Later  on,  though  the  sun  was  already  shining,  it  was  still 
intensely  cold.  As  we  went  along,  Oo-koo-hoo's  breath  rose 
like  a  cloud  of  white  smoke  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  in  the  air 
before  it  disappeared.  Only  the  faintest  whisper  of  scuffling 
snowshoes  and  scrunching  snow  could  be  heard;  the  sound  of 
the  occasional  snapping  of  a  twig  came  as  a  starthng  report 
compared  with  the  almost  noiseless  tread  of  the  hunter.    A 


144  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

little  cloud  of  powdery  snow  rose  above  the  dragging  heels  of  his 
snowshoes,  and,  whirling  about,  covered  the  back  of  his  leg- 
gings with  a  coating  of  white.  Onward  he  strode,  twisting 
through  the  tangled  scrub,  stooping  under  a  fallen  tree,  stepping 
over  a  snow-capped  log,  or  pacing  along  a  winter-locked  stream. 

When  Oo-koo-hoo  came  to  a  district  overgrown  with  willows 
interspersed  with  poplars,  he  stopped  to  examine  a  snare  set  for 
lynx.  It  had  not  been  disturbed,  but  a  little  farther  on  we  saw 
the  form  of  a  dead  lynx  hanging  from  a  tossing-pole  above  the 
trail.  The  carcass  was  frozen  stiff,  and  the  face  still  showed 
the  ghastly  expression  it  had  worn  in  its  death  struggle.  The 
rigid  body  was  taken  down  and  lashed  to  the  sled.  Resetting 
the  snare,  we  continued  our  way.  Farther  on,  in  a  hilly 
country  timbered  with  spruce,  where  there  was  not  much  under- 
growth, we  came  to  marten  traps.  In  swampy  places,  or 
where  there  were  creeks  and  small  lakes,  we  examined  traps 
and  deadfalls  set  for  mink,  muskrat,  beaver,  fisher,  and  otter. 
Where  the  country  was  fairly  open  and  marked  with  rabbit 
runways  we  came  upon  traps  set  for  foxes  and  wolves. 

The  gray,  or  timber,  wolf  is  trapped  in  the  same  way  as  the 
coloured  fox,  save  only  that  the  trap  is  larger.  Though  the 
steel  trap  is  much  in  vogue  among  white  men  and  half-breeds, 
the  deadfall,  even  to  this  day,  is  much  preferred  by  the  Indian. 
Though,  in  the  first  place,  it  requires  more  labour  to  build,  yet 
it  requires  less  for  transportation  since  the  materials  are  all 
at  hand;  and,  besides,  when  once  built  it  lasts  for  years.  Then, 
again,  it  is  not  only  cheaper,  but  it  is  more  deadly  than  the 
steel  trap,  for  once  the  animal  is  caught,  it  seldom  escapes. 
With  the  steel  trap  it  is  different,  as  animals  often  pull  away 
from  the  steel  jaws  or  even  gnaw  off  a  foot  in  order  to  get  free. 
If,  however,  the  hunter's  deadfalls  and  traps  have  been  set  in 
vain,  and  if  the  wolf  has  been  causing  trouble  and  the  hunter  is 
determined  to  secure  him,  he  will  sit  up  for  him  at  night  in  the 
hope  of  getting  a  shot  at  him.    Years  ago  many  wolves  were 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  145 

destroyed  with  poison,  but  nowadays  it  has  gone  out  of  use — 
that  is,  among  the  fur-hunters  of  the  forest. 

When  a  wolf  is  caught  in  a  trap  and  he  sees  a  hunter  ap- 
proaching, he  will  at  first  he  down,  close  his  eyes,  and  keep  as 
still  as  possible  to  escape  notice;  but  should  he  find  that  the 
hunter  is  still  coming  on,  say  to  within  twenty  paces  from  him, 
he  will  fly  into  a  rage,  show  his  fangs,  bristle  his  hair,  and  get 
ready  for  a  spring.  The  hunter  usually  takes  a  green  stick 
about  a  yard  long  by  two  inches  thick,  and  instead  of  striking 
a  great,  swinging  blow  with  both  hands,  he  holds  the  stick  in 
one  hand  and  strikes  a  short,  quick,  though  powerful,  blow, 
hitting  the  brute  on  the  snout  close  to  the  eyes.  That  stuns 
him,  and  then  the  hunter,  with  either  foot  or  knee,  presses 
over  the  heart  until  death  ensues.  But  clubbing  the  wolf  is 
dangerous  work,  for  the  hunter  may  hit  the  trap  and  set  the 
captive  free,  or  it  may  bi*e  him.  So  the  gun  is  frequently 
used,  but  only  to  shoot  the  wolf  in  the  head,  as  a  wound  any- 
where else  would  injure  the  fur. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  as  we  were  approaching  a  wolf  trap, 
Oo-koo-hoo,  who  was  leading  the  way,  suddenly  stopped  and 
gazed  ahead.  A  large  wolf  was  lying  in  the  snow,  evidently 
pretending  to  be  dead.  One  of  its  forepaws  was  held  by  the 
trap,  and  the  hunter  drew  his  axe  and  moved  forward.  As  we 
came  near,  the  beast  could  stand  the  strain  no  longer,  but  rose 
up  with  bristling  hair,  champing  fangs,  and  savage  growl. 
When  Oo-koo-hoo  had  almost  reached  the  deeply  marked  cir- 
cle in  the  snow  where  the  wolf  had  been  strugghng  to  gain  its 
freedom,  he  paused  and  said: 

"My  brother,  I  need  your  coat,  so  turn  your  eyes  away 
while  I  strike."  A  momentary  calmness  came  over  the  beast, 
but  as  the  hunter  raised  his  axe  it  suddenly  crouched,  and  with 
its  eyes  flashing  with  rage,  sprang  for  Oo-koo-hoo's  throat.  Its 
mighty  leap,  however,  ended  three  feet  short  of  the  mark,  for 
the  trap  chain  grew  taut,  jerked  it  down  and  threw  it  violently 


146  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

upon  its  back.  Instantly  regaining  its  feet,  it  dashed  away  on 
three  legs,  and  in  its  ejffort  to  escape  dragged  the  clog  through 
the  snow.  The  bounding  clog  sent  the  snow  flying,  and  the 
hunter  rushed  in  pursuit,  while  the  wolf  dodged  among  the 
trees  to  escape  a  blow  from  Oo-koo-hoo.  Then  it  bolted  again, 
and  ran  straight  for  a  few  yards  until  the  clog  caught  and  held 
fast.  The  hunter,  pressing  on  with  raised  axe,  had  no  time  to 
draw  back  when  the  brute  sprang  for  him  as  it  did;  luckily, 
however,  his  aim  was  true:  the  back  of  the  axe  descended  upon 
the  wolf's  head,  and  it  fell  dead.  This  was  fortunate  for  the 
himter,  as  unwarily  he  had  allowed  himself  so  to  get  between 
the  clog  and  the  beast  that  the  chain  almost  swung  over  his 
snowshoes.  If  he  had  missed  his  aim,  no  doubt  it  would  have 
gone  hard  with  him. 

A  few  slant  rays  of  the  sun  penetrating  the  deep  gloom  of 
the  thick  forest  and  reminding  us  that  day  was  fast  passing, 
we  decided  to  camp  there  for  the  night.  So  we  cut  a  mattress 
of  brush,  made  a  fire,  and  refreshed  ourselves  with  supper  before 
we  started  to  skin  the  wolf. 

THE  WAYS  OF  A  WOLF 

Talk  of  wolves  prevailed  all  evening,  and  Oo-koo-hoo  cer- 
tainly had  a  store  of  information  upon  that  subject.  In  ex- 
pressing surprise  that  a  woK  had  strength  enough  to  jerk  about 
a  big  drag-log,  as  though  it  were  merely  a  small  stick,  he  replied 
that  once  when  he  had  killed  a  full-grown  bull-moose  and 
dressed  and  hung  up  the  meat,  he  had  left  for  camp  with  part  of 
his  prize,  but  on  returning  again  to  the  cache,  he  had  found 
a  wolf  moving  off  with  one  of  the  hindquarters.  It  must 
have  weighed  close  upon  a  hundred  pounds.  But  perhaps,  if 
I  quote  Charles  Mair,  the  strength  and  endurance  of  a  wolf 
will  be  better  reaUzed:  "In  the  sketch  of  *North- Western 
America'  (1868)  Archbishop  Tache,  of  St.  Boniface,  Manitoba, 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  147 

recounts  a  remarkable  instance  of  persevering  fortitude  ex- 
hibited by  a  large,  dark  wolf  caught  in  a  steel  trap  at  Isle  a  la 
Crosse  many  years  ago.  A  month  afterward  it  was  killed 
near  Green  Lake,  ninety  miles  distant,  with  the  trap  and  con- 
necting wood-block  still  attached  to  one  of  its  hind  legs.  It  had 
evidently  dragged  both  around  in  the  snow  for  many  a  mile, 
during  a  period  of  intense  cold,  and  it  is,  therefore,  not  sur- 
prising that  it  was  a  *  walking  skeleton'  when  finally  secured." 

Though  the  timber-wolf  is  a  fast  traveller,  it  cannot  out- 
distance the  greyhound  or  wolf  hound;  but  though  it  is  seldom 
seen  in  water  it  is  a  good  swimmer.  Its  weight  may  run  from 
seventy-five  to  one  himdred  and  fifty  pounds,  and  an  extra 
large  wolf  may  stand  close  to  thirty  inches  at  the  shoulder, 
and  be  over  five  feet  in  length.  In  colour  they  range  from  white 
to  nearly  black,  but  the  ordinary  colour  is  a  light  brownish  gray. 
Usually  they  mate  in  February,  but  whether  or  not  for  life,  it  is 
hard  to  say.  They  breed  in  a  hollow  log,  or  tree  or  stump,  or 
in  a  hole  in  the  ground,  or  in  a  cave.  The  young  are  normally 
born  in  April,  usually  six  or  eight  in  a  fitter,  and  the  father  helps 
to  care  for  them. 

Many  of  the  wolves  I  have  seen  were  nmning  in  pairs,  some 
in  families,  and  the  greatest  number  I  have  ever  seen  together 
was  seven.  That  was  in  Athabasca  in  the  winter  time.  The 
seven  were  in  a  playful  mood,  racing  around  and  jumping  over 
one  another;  and  though  all  were  fuU-grown,  five  of  them  dis- 
played the  romping  spirits  of  puppies,  and  I  wondered  if  they 
could  be  but  one  family.  Though  my  dog-driver  and  I,  with 
our  dog-train,  passed  within  about  a  hundred  paces  of  them, 
and  though  we  were  all  on  a  sunny  lake,  they  never  ceased 
their  play  for  a  single  moment,  nor  did  they  show  in  any  way 
that  they  had  seen  us. 

There  are  several  voices  of  the  wilderness  that  cause  some 
city  people  alarm  and  dread,  and  they  are  the  voices  of  the 
owl,  the  loon,  and  the  timber-wolf.    But  to  me  their  voices 


148  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

bring  a  solemn,  at  times  an  eerie,  charm,  that  I  would  gladly  go 
miles  to  renew.  Though  much  of  the  wolf -howling  has  been  of 
httle  appeal,  I  have  heard  wolf  concerts  that  held  me  spell- 
bound. On  some  occasions — but  always  at  night — they  lasted 
without  scarcely  any  intermission  for  three  or  four  hours.  The 
jfirst  part  of  the  programme  was  usually  rendered — according 
to  the  sound  of  their  voices — by  the  youngest  of  the  pack;  later 
the  middle-aged  seemed  to  take  the  stage;  but  of  all  the 
performance,  nothing  equalled  in  greatness  of  volume  or  in  rich- 
ness of  tone  the  closing  numbers,  and  they  were  always  ren- 
dered by  what  seemed  to  be  some  mighty  veteran,  the  patriarch 
of  the  pack,  for  his  effort  was  so  thrilling  and  awe-inspiring 
that  it  always  sent  the  gooseflesh  rushing  up  and  down  my 
back.  Many  a  time,  night  after  night,  beneath  the  Northern 
Lights,  I  have  gone  out  to  the  edge  of  a  lake  to  listen  to 
them. 

When  hunting  big  game,  such  as  deer,  wolves  assist  one  an- 
other and  display  a  fine  sense  of  the  value  of  team-work  in 
running  down  their  prey.  Though  the  wolf  is  a  shy  and  cau- 
tious animal,  he  is  no  coward,  as  the  way  he  will  slash  into  a 
pack  of  dogs  goes  far  to  prove.  In  the  North  the  stories  of  the 
wolf's  courage  are  endless;  here,  for  example,  is  one:  "During 
our  residence  at  Cumberland  House  in  1820,"  says  Richardson, 
**a  wolf,  which  had  been  prowling  and  was  wounded  by  a 
musket  ball  and  driven  off,  returned  after  it  became  dark, 
whilst  the  blood  was  still  flowing  from  its  wound,  and  carried 
off  a  dog,  from  amongst  fifty  others,  that  howled  piteously, 
but  had  no  courage  to  unite  in  an  attack  on  their  enemy." 

Nevertheless,  wolves  rarely  attack  man,  in  fact,  only  when 
they  are  affhcted  with  rabies  or  hydrophobia.  No  doubt  every- 
one has  read,  at  one  time  or  another,  harrowing  stories  of  the 
great  timber-wolves  of  our  northern  forest  forming  themselves 
into  huge  packs  and  pursuing  people  all  over  the  wilderness 
until  there  is  nothing  left  of  the  unfortunate  conamunity  save 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  149 

a  few  odds  and  ends  of  cheap  jewellery.  Even  our  most  digni- 
fied and  reliable  newspapers  are  never  loath  to  pubhsh  such 
thrilling  drivel;  and  their  ignorant  readers  gulp  it  all  down, 
apparently  with  a  relishing  shudder;  for  the  dear  pubhc  not 
only  loves  to  be  fooled,  but  actually  gloats  over  that  sort  of 
thing,  since  it  is  their  hereditary  behef. 

When  I  was  a  boy,  I,  too,  thrilled  over  such  nonsense,  and 
when  I  made  my  first  trip  into  the  forest  I  began  to  delve 
for  true  wolf  stories,  and  I  have  been  delving  ever  since.  So 
far,  after  over  thirty  years  of  digging,  I  have  actually  dug  up 
what  I  beheve  to  be  one  authentic  story  of  an  unprovoked 
wolf  having  actually  attacked  and  killed  a  man.  On  several 
occasions,  too,  I  have  had  the  satisfaction  of  running  to  cover 
some  of  the  wolf  stories  pubhshed  in  our  daily  press.  I 
read  a  few  years  ago  in  one  of  Canada's  leading  daily  papers — 
and  no  doubt  the  same  account  was  copied  throughout  the 
United  States — a  thrilling  story  of  two  lumber-jacks  in  the 
wilds  of  Northern  Ontario  being  pursued  by  a  pack  of  timber- 
wolves,  and  the  exhausted  woodsmen  barely  escaping  with 
their  Uves,  being  forced  by  the  ferocious  brutes  to  spend  a  whole 
night  in  a  tree  at  a  time  when  the  thermometer  registered — 
below  zero.  I  am  sorry  I  have  forgotten  the  exact  degree  of 
frost  the  paper  stated,  but  as  a  rule  it  is  always  close  to  70  or 
80  degrees  below  zero  when  the  great  four-legged  demons  of  the 
forest  go  on  the  rampage. 

THE  WOLVES  AND  GREENHORNS 

Several  years  later,  when  I  was  spending  the  summer  at 
Shahwandahgooze,  in  the  Laurentian  Mountains,  I  again  met 
Billy  Le  Heup,  the  hunter,  and  one  night  when  we  were  hsten- 
ing  to  a  wolf  concert  I  mentioned  the  foregoing  newspaper 
thriller.  Billy  laughed  and  acknowledged  that  he,  too,  had 
read  it,  but  not  until  several  weeks  after  he  had  had  a  chance  to 


150  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

investigate,  first  hand,  the  very  same  yarn;  for  he,  too,  had 
been  trailing  wolf  stories  all  his  hfe. 

It  so  happened  that  Le  Heup's  work  had  taken  him  through 
the  timber  country  north  of  Lake  Temiscamingue.  While 
stopping  one  day  at  a  lumber  camp  to  have  a  snack,  three  men 
entered  the  cookery  where  he  was  eating.  One  of  them  was 
the  foreman,  and  he  was  in  a  perfect  rage.  He  had  discharged 
the  other  two  men,  and  now  he  was  warning  them  that  if  they 

didn't  get  something  to  eat  pretty quick  and  leave  the 

camp  in  a of  a  hurry,  he  would  kick  them  out.    Then,  just 

before  he  slammed  the  door  and  disappeared,  he  roared  out  at 

them  that  not  for  one  moment  would  he  stand  for  such 

rot,  as  their  being  chased  and  treed  all  night  by  wolves. 

When  quiet  was  restored  and  the  two  men  had  sat  down 
beside  Le  Heup  at  the  dining  table,  he  had  questioned  them 
and  they  had  told  him  a  graphic  story  of  how  they  had  been 
chased  by  a  great  pack  of  wolves  and  how  they  had  managed 
to  escape  with  their  lives  by  climbing  a  tree  only  just  in  the 
nick  of  time;  and,  moreover,  how  the  ferocious  brutes  had  kept 
them  there  all  night  long,  and  how,  consequently,  they  had 
been  nearly  frozen  to  death. 

It  was  a  thrilling  story  and  so  full  of  detail  that  even  "old- 
timer"  Le  Heup  grew  quite  interested  and  congratulated  him- 
self on  having  at  last  actually  heard,  first  hand,  a  true  story  of 
how  Canadian  timber-wolves,  though  unprovoked,  had  pur- 
sued, attacked,  and  treed  two  men.  Indeed,  he  was  so  im- 
pressed that  he  decided  to  back-track  the  heroes'  trail  and 
count  for  himself  just  how  many  wolves  the  pack  had  numbered. 
So  he  got  the  would-be  lumber-jacks — for  they  were  greenhorns 
from  the  city — to  point  out  for  him  their  incoming  trail,  which 
he  at  once  set  out  to  back-track.  After  a  tramp  of  three  or 
four  miles  he  came  to  the  very  tree  which  from  all  signs  they 
had  climbed  and  in  which  they  had  spent  the  night.  Then 
desiring  to  count  the  wolf  tracks  in  the  snow,  he  looked  around, 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  151 

but  never  a  one  could  he  see.  Walking  away  for  about  a 
hundred  yards  he  began  to  circle  the  tree,  but  still  without 
success.  He  circled  again  with  about  an  eighth  of  a  mile 
radius,  but  still  no  wolf  tracks  were  to  be  seen.  As  a  last  resort 
he  circled  once  more  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  tree, 
and  this  time  he  was  rewarded;  he  found  wolf  tracks  in  the 
snow.  There  had  been  three  wolves.  They  had  been  running 
full  gallop.  Moreover,  they  had  been  traiUng  a  white-tailed 
deer;  but  never  once  had  either  deer  or  wolves  paused  in  their 
run,  nor  had  they  come  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  tree 
in  which  the  greenhorns  from  the  city  had  spent  the  night.  Of 
such  material  are  the  man-chasing,  man-killing  wolf  stories 
made. 

Frequently  I  have  had  timber-wolves  follow  me,  sometimes 
for  half  an  hour  or  so;  on  one  occasion  two  of  the  largest  and 
handsomest  timber-wolves  I  ever  saw  followed  me  for  over  two 
hours.  During  that  time  they  travelled  all  round  me,  ahead, 
behind,  and  on  either  side;  and  occasionally  they  came  within 
sixty  or  seventy  feet  of  me.  Yet  never  once,  by  action  or  ex- 
pression, did  they  show  any  signs  other  than  those  which  two 
friendly  but  very  shy  dogs  might  have  shown  toward  me. 

THE   WOLF  THAT  KILLED   A  MAN 

Of  com^e,  wolves  will  attack  a  man;  when  they  are  trapped, 
wounded,  or  cornered — just  as  a  muskrat  will;  but  of  all  the 
wolf  stories  I  have  ever  heard,  in  which  wolves  killed  a  man, 
the  following  is  the  only  one  I  have  any  reason  to  beUeve,  as 
it  was  told  me  first-hand  by  a  gentleman  whose  word  I  honour, 
and  whose  unusual  knowledge  of  animal  hfe  and  northern 
travel  places  his  story  beyond  a  doubt. 

One  winter's  day  in  the  seventies,  when  Mr.  WiUiam  Com- 
waUis  King  was  in  charge  of  Fort  Rae,  one  of  the  Hudson's 
Bay  Company's  posts  on  Great  Slave  Lake,  he  was  snowshoe- 


152  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

ing  to  a  number  of  Indian  camps  to  collect  furs,  and  had  under 
his  command  several  Indians  in  charge  of  his  dog-trains.  On 
the  way  they  came  upon  a  small  party  of  Dog-rib  Indians,  who, 
after  a  smoke  and  a  chat,  informed  him  that,  being  in  need  of 
meat,  one  of  their  party,  named  Pot-fighter 's-father,  had  set 
out  three  days  before  to  hunt  caribou;  and  as  he  had  not  re- 
turned, they  were  afraid  lest  some  evil  had  befallen  him.  When 
Mr.  King  learned  that  it  had  been  Pot-fighter's-father's  inten- 
tion to  return  to  camp  on  the  evening  of  the  first  day,  he  ad- 
vised the  Indians  to  set  out  at  once  in  search  of  him. 

After  following  his  tracks  for  half  a  day  they  came  suddenly 
upon  the  footprints  of  an  unusually  large  wolf  which  had 
turned  to  trail  the  hunter.  For  some  miles  the  brute  had 
evidently  followed  close  beside  the  trail  of  Pot-fighter's-father, 
diverging  at  times  as  though  seeking  cover,  and  then  again 
stalking  its  prey  in  the  open.  One  Indian  continued  to  follow 
the  old  man's  trail,  while  another  followed  that  of  the  wolf. 
They  had  not  gone  far  before  they  discovered  that  Pot-fighter's- 
father  had  come  upon  a  herd  of  caribou,  and  a  httle  farther 
on  they  found,  lying  on  the  snow,  a  couple  of  caribou  carcasses 
that  he  had  shot.  Strange  to  say,  the  animals  had  not  been 
skinned,  nor  had  their  tongues  been  removed.  More  re- 
markable still,  the  wolf — although  passing  close  to  them — 
had  not  stopped  to  feed.  Soon  they  came  upon  another  dead 
caribou,  and  this  time  Pot-fighter's-father  had  skinned  it, 
and  had  cut  out  its  tongue;  but  again  the  wolf  had  refused  to 
touch  the  deer. 

Continuing  their  pursuit,  they  discovered  a  brush  wind- 
break where  the  hunter  had  evidently  stopped  to  camp  for 
the  night.  Now  they  noticed  that  the  tracks  of  the  wolf  took 
to  cover  among  the  scrub.  Approaching  the  shelter,  they  read 
in  the  snow  the  signs  of  a  terrible  struggle  between  a  man  and 
a  wolf.  The  hunter's  gun,  snowshoes,  and  sash  containing  his 
knife,  rested  against  the  windbreak,  and  his  axe  stood  in  the 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  153 

snow  where  he  had  been  cutting  brush.  From  the  snow  the 
Indians  read  the  story  of  the  long-drawn  fight.  Here  it  told 
how  the  great  wolf  had  leaped  upon  the  back  of  the  unsuspect- 
ing man  while  he  was  carrying  an  armful  of  brush,  and  had 
knocked  him  down.  There  it  showed  that  the  man  had  grap- 
pled with  the  brute  and  rolled  it  over  upon  its  back.  Here  the 
signs  showed  that  the  wolf  had  broken  free;  there,  that  the  two 
had  grappled  again,  and  in  their  struggle  had  rolled  over  and 
over.  The  snow  was  now  strewn  with  wolf-hair,  and  dyed  with 
blood.  While  the  dreadful  encounter  had  raged,  the  battle- 
ground had  kept  steadily  shifting  nearer  the  gun.  Just  a  couple 
of  yards  away  from  it  lay  the  frozen  body  of  poor  old  Pot- 
fighter's-father.  His  deerskin  clothing  was  sht  to  tatters; 
his  scalp  was  torn  away;  his  fingers  were  chewed  off,  but  his 
bloody  mouth  was  filled  with  hair  and  flesh  of  the  wolf. 

After  burying  the  body  of  old  Pot-fighter's-father  in  a 
mound  of  stones,  the  Indians  determined  to  continue  in  pur- 
suit of  the  wolf.  Its  tracks  at  last  led  them  to  a  solitary  lodge 
that  stood  in  the  shelter  of  a  thicket  of  spruce.  There  the 
hunters  were  greeted  by  an  Indian  who  was  hving  in  the  tepee 
with  his  wife  and  baby.  After  having  a  cup  of  tea,  a  smoke, 
and  then  a  httle  chat,  the  hunters  enquired  about  the  tracks 
of  the  great  wolf  that  had  brought  them  to  the  lodge.  The 
Indian  told  them  that  during  the  night  before  last,  while  he 
and  his  wife  were  asleep  with  the  baby  between  them,  they  had 
been  awakened  by  a  great  uproar  among  the  dogs.  They  had 
no  sooner  sat  up  than  the  dogs  had  rushed  into  the  tepee  fol- 
lowed by  an  enormous  wolf.  Leaping  up,  the  hunter  had 
seized  his  axe  and  attacked  the  beast,  while  his  wife  had  grab- 
bed the  baby,  wrapped  it  in  a  blanket,  and  rushing  outside, 
had  rammed  the  child  out  of  sight  in  a  snowdrift,  and  returned 
to  help  her  husband  to  fight  the  brute.  The  wolf  had  already 
killed  one  of  the  dogs,  and  the  Indian  in  his  excitement  had 
tripped  upon  the  bedding,  fallen,  and  lost  his  grip  upon  his 


154  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

axe.  When  he  rose,  he  found  the  wolf  between  himself  and  his 
weapon.  His  wife,  however,  had  seized  a  piece  of  firewood 
and,  being  unobserved  by  the  wolf,  had  used  it  as  a  club  and 
dealt  the  beast  so  powerful  a  blow  upon  the  small  of  the  back 
that  it  had  been  seriously  weakened  and  had  given  the  Indian 
an  opportunity  to  recover  his  axe,  with  which  at  last  he  had 
managed  to  kill  the  wolf. 

It  was  Mr.  King's  belief,  however,  that  such  unusual  be- 
havioiu'  of  a  wolf  was  caused  by  distemper,  for  the  brute 
seemed  to  display  no  more  fear  of  man  than  would  a  mad  dog. 
And  he  added  that  the  behaviom*  of  the  wolf  in  question  was  no 
more  typical  of  wolves  in  general  than  was  the  behaviour  of  a 
mad  dog  typical  of  dogs. 

COMING  OF  THE  FUR-RUNNERS 

That  night,  when  we  returned  home,  Oo-koo-hoo  said  to  his 
grandsons:  "Ne-geek  and  Ah-ging-goos,  my  grandchildren, 
the  fur-runner  is  coming  soon.  To-morrow  do  you  both  take 
the  dogs  and  break  a  two-days'  trail  on  Otter  River  in  order  to 
hasten  his  coming." 

Next  morning  the  boys  set  out  to  break  the  trail.  When 
they  camped  on  Otter  River  on  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day 
they  cached  in  the  river  ice  some  fish  for  the  trader's  dogs. 
They  chopped  a  hole  and,  after  placing  the  fish  in,  filled  it  up 
with  water,  which  they  allowed  to  freeze,  with  the  tail  of 
a  single  fish  protruding,  in  order  to  show  the  fur-runner  what 
was  cached  below.  To  mark  the  spot,  they  planted  a  pole 
with  its  butt  in  the  hole,  and  rigged  up  a  tripod  of  sticks  to 
support  it.  At  the  top  of  the  pole  they  tied  a  little  bag  of  tea 
and  a  choice  piece  of  meat  for  the  trader.  At  the  bend  of  the 
river  below,  where  he  would  surely  pass,  they  erected  another 
pole  with  a  bunch  of  fir  twigs  attached,  for  the  piu-pose  of  at- 
tracting his  attention  to  their  tracks. 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  155 

On  their  return  home  they  found  Oo-koo-hoo  and  Amik 
sorting  their  furs  in  anticipation  of  the  fur-runner's  arrival. 
Before  them  lay,  among  the  other  skins,  the  skin  of  the  black 
fox,  and  when  the  boys  entered  the  lodge  Oo-koo-hoo  ad- 
dressed the  whole  family,  saying: 

"Do  not  mention  the  black  fox  to  the  fur-runner,  since 
I  intend  keeping  it  until  I  go  to  the  Post,  in  the  hope  of  making 
a  better  bargain  there.  Now  sort  your  skins,  and  set  aside 
those  you  wish  to  give  in  payment  on  your  debt  to  the  Great 
Company." 

During  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day  Lawson  the  fur- 
runner  for  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  arrived  with  his  dog- 
train.  He  shook  hands  with  Oo-koo-hoo  and  Amik  and  the 
boys,  and  kissed  the  women  and  the  girls,  as  the  custom  of  the 
traders  is.  It  being  late  in  the  day,  Oo-koo-hoo  decided  not  to 
begin  trading  until  next  morning.  So  they  spent  the  evening 
in  spinning  yams  around  the  fire.  Shortly  after  breakfast 
strange  dogs  were  heard.  The  boys  ran  out  and  saw  an  un- 
known man  approaching.  When  the  newcomer — a  French- 
Canadian  half-breed — had  eaten,  and  had  joined  the  others  in 
a  smoke,  he  gave  me  a  letter  from  Free  Trader  Spear.  Then 
Oo-koo-hoo  began  questioning  him: 

"My  brother,  you  are  a  stranger  in  this  country;  so  I  have 
given  you  fire  and  food  and  tobacco  in  friendship.  Tell  me 
now  why  and  from  whence  you  come.^" 

The  half-breed  replied:  "My  brother,  I  come  from  the 
Border  Lands — where  the  plains  and  the  forests  meet — and 
my  name  is  Gibeault.  I  have  come  to  trade  regularly  with 
you  as  I  am  now  working  for  Free  Trader  Spear,  whose  post, 
as  you  know,  is  near  Fort  Consolation.  You  will  do  well  to 
encourage  opposition  to  the  Great  Company,  and  thus  raise 
the  price  of  furs." 

The  half-breed  then  presented  the  hunters  with  several 
plugs  of  "T  &  B,"  some  matches,  tea,  sugar,  flour,  and  a  piece 


156  THE  DK\MA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

of  "sow-belly."  For  some  time  Oo-koo-hoo  sat  holding  a 
little  fresh-cut  tobacco  in  his  hand,  until  Gibeault,  taking 
notice,  asked  him  why  he  did  not  smoke  it. 

"The  Great  Company  always  gives  me  a  pipe,"  rephed  the 
hunter. 

The  runner  for  the  free  trader,  not  to  be  outdone,  gave  him 
a  pipe. 

"I  suppose,"  began  Oo-koo-hoo,  "that  your  heart  is  glad  to 
see  me." 

"Yes,"  rephed  Gibeault,  "and  I  want  to  get  some  of  your 
fur." 

"That  is  all  very  well,  but  I  will  see  which  way  you  look  at 
me,"  returned  the  Indian. 

"Have  you  much  fur?  "  asked  the  haK-breed. 

"  I  have  enough  to  pay  my  debt  to  the  Great  Company." 

"Yes,  I  know,  but  you  will  have  some  left,  and  I  want  to  do 
business  with  you,  so  bring  out  your  furs  and  I  will  treat  you 
right." 

"That  sounds  well,  but  you  must  remember  that  though  the 
Great  Company  charges  more,  their  goods  are  the  best  goods, 
while  yours  are  all  cheap  rubbish." 

Thinking  the  opportunity  a  favourable  one,  Gibeault  as- 
sumed an  air  of  friendly  solicitude  and  said: 

"The  Company  has  cheated  your  people  so  many  hundred 
years  that  they  are  now  very  rich.  No  wonder  they  can  af- 
ford to  give  you  high  prices  for  your  furs.  Free  Trader  Spear 
is  a  poor  but  honest  man.  It  is  to  your  great  advantage  to 
trade  part  of  your  furs  with  me  in  order  to  make  it  worth 
his  while  to  send  me  here  every  winter.  As  you  know,  my 
presence  here  compels  the  Company  to  pay  full  value  for 
your  furs  and  so  you  are  the  one  who  reaps  the  greatest 
benefit." 

"That  is  partly  true,"  answered  Oo-koo-hoo,  "but  I  must 
be  loyal  to  the  Company.    You  are  here  to-day  and  away  to- 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  157 

morrow;  but  the  Company  is  here  for  ever.  But  I  will  not  be 
hard  on  you;  I  will  wait  and  see  how  you  look  at  me.'* 

For  a  while  the  dignified  Indian  sat  puffing  at  his  pipe 
and  gazing  at  the  fire.  Every  line  of  his  weather-beaten  and 
wrinkled  but  handsome  face  was  full  of  sterling  character. 
At  times  his  small  eyes  twinkled  as  a  flash  of  cunning  crept 
into  them,  and  a  keen  sense  of  humour  frequently  twitched  the 
comers  of  his  determined  mouth.  Then  he  brought  out  a 
pack  of  furs  and,  handing  it  to  Lawson,  said : 

"This  is  to  pay  the  Great  Company  for  the  advances  they 
gave  us  last  summer." 

Lawson  took  the  bundle  without  opening  it,  as  it  would  not 
be  checked  over  until  he  dehvered  it  at  Fort  Consolation. 
Resenting  the  Indian's  attitude  toward  Gibeault  he  began: 

"I  see,  now  that  there's  another  trader  here,  it's  easy  for  you 
to  forget  your  old  friends.  The  free  trader  comes  and  goes. 
Give  him  your  furs,  an'  he  doesn't  care  whether  you're  dead 
to-morrow.  It's  not  like  that  with  the  Great  Company.  The 
Company  came  first  among  your  people,  and  since  then  it  has 
been  like  a  father,  not  only  to  all  your  people  before  you,  but 
to  you  as  well.  Whenever  your  forefathers  were  smitten  with 
hunger  or  disease,  who  looked  after  them?  It  wasn't  the  free 
trader;  it  was  the  Company.  Who  sells  you  the  best  goods .^ 
It  isn't  the  free  trader;  it's  the  Company.  Who  gave  you  your 
debt  last  fall  and  made  it  possible  for  you  to  hunt  this  winter? 
It  wasn't  the  free  trader;  it  was  the  Company.  My  brother, 
you  have  none  to  thank  but  the  Great  Company  that  you're 
ahve  to-day." 

With  a  grunt  of  disapproval  Oo-koo-hoo  sullenly  retorted: 

"The  Priest  says  it  is  The  Master  of  Life  we  have  to  thank 
for  that.  I  am  sure  that  the  Commissioner  of  the  Great  Com- 
pany is  not  so  great  as  God.  It  is  true  you  give  us  good  prices 
now,  but  it  is  also  true  that  you  have  not  given  us  back  the 
countless  sums  you  stole  from  our  fathers  and  grandfathers 


158  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

and  all  our  people  before  them;  for  did  you  not  wait  until  the 
coming  of  the  free  traders  before  you  would  give  us  the  worth 
of  our  skins?  No  wonder  you  are  great  masters ;  it  seems  to  me 
that  it  takes  great  rogues  to  become  great  masters." 

The  angry  Lawson,  to  save  a  quarrel,  bit  his  moustache, 
smiled  faintly  and,  presenting  the  hunter  with  even  more  than 
Gibeault  had  given,  said : 

"Never  mind,  my  brother,  you're  a  pretty  smart  man." 

Without  replying,  Oo-koo-hoo  accepted  the  present  so  eagerly 
that  he  jerked  it  out  of  the  trader's  hand.  That  pleased  Law- 
son.    Presently  the  Indian  threw  down  a  bear  skin,  saying: 

"My  brother,  this  is  to  see  how  you  look  at  me." 

Now  the  way  of  the  experienced  fur-runner  is  to  offer  a  big 
price — often  an  excessive  price — ^for  the  first  skin.  He  cal- 
culates that  it  puts  the  Indian  in  a  good  humour  and  in  the 
end  gives  the  trader  a  chance  of  getting  ahead  of  the  native. 
That  is  just  what  Lawson  did,  and  Gibeault  refused  to  raise  the 
bid. 

"My  brother,"  said  the  Indian  addressing  the  latter,  "you 
had  better  go  home  if  you  cannot  pay  better  prices  than  the 
Great  Company." 

Gibeault,  nettled,  outbid  his  rival  for  the  next  skin,  and  thus 
it  went  on,  first  one  and  then  the  other  raising  the  prices  higher 
and  higher,  much  to  the  dehght  of  the  Indians.  Oo-koo-hoo 
had  already  sold  a  number  of  skins  for  more  than  their  market 
value  before  it  dawned  on  the  white  men  that  they  were  play- 
ing a  losing  game.  Though  glaring  savagely  at  each  other, 
both  were  ready  to  capitulate.  Lawson,  pretending  to  ex- 
amine some  of  Gibeault's  goods,  stooped  and  whispered: 

"We're  actin'  hke  fools.  If  we  keep  this  up  our  bosses  will 
fire  us  both." 

"Let's  swap  even — ^you  take  every  other  skin  at  your  own 
figure,"  returned  the  French  half-breed. 

"Agreed,"  said  Lawson,  straightening  up. 


00-KOO-HOO  PLAYS  THE  GAME  159 

No  longer  outbidding  one  another,  they  got  the  next  few 
skins  below  the  market  price.  But  before  the  traders  had 
made  good  their  loss  the  Indian  gathered  up  his  furs  and  turn- 
ing to  the  fur-runners  with  a  smile,  said : 

"My  brothers,  as  I  see  that  you  have  agreed  to  cheat  me,  I 
have  decided  that  I  and  my  people  will  keep  all  our  furs  until 
we  go  out  next  spring;  so  it  is  now  useless  for  you  to  remain 
any  longer." 

Having  read  the  note  Gibeault  brought  me  from  Free 
Trader  Spear,  I  hastened  to  hand  the  half-breed  my  reply, 
accepting  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spear's  invitation  to  be  their  guest 
for  a  few  days  when  everyone  would  be  gathering  at  Fort 
Consolation  to  attend  the  New  Year's  dance;  and  again  I 
wondered  if  "Son-in-law"  would  be  there. 


V 

MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN 

WHO  IS  SON-IN-LAW? 

Christmas  week  had  arrived  and  now  we  were  off  for  the 
New  Year's  dance  to  be  held  at  Fort  Consolation.  Instead  of 
travelling  round  three  sides  of  an  oblong  as  we  had  done  to 
reach  Oo-koo-hoo's  hunting  ground  by  canoe,  we  now,  travelling 
on  snowshoes,  cut  across  country,  over  hill  and  valley,  lake  and 
river,  in  a  southeasterly  direction,  until  we  struck  Caribou 
River  and  then  turned  toward  White  River  and  finally  arrived 
at  God's  Lake.  Our  httle  party  included  Oo-koo-hoo,  his 
wife  Ojistoh,  their  granddaughter  Neykia,  and  myself.  Our 
domestic  outfit  was  loaded  upon  two  hunting  sleds  in  the 
hauling  of  which  we  all  took  turns,  as  well  as  in  reheving  each 
other  in  the  work  of  track  beating.  At  night  we  camped  in 
the  woods  without  any  shelter  save  brush  windbreaks  over 
the  heads  of  our  beds,  our  couches  being  made  of  balsam-twigs 
laid  shingle  fashion  in  the  snow.  For  the  sake  of  warmth 
Ojistoh  and  Neykia  slept  together,  while  Oo-koo-hoo  and  I 
cuddled  up  close  to  one  another  and  fitted  together  like  spoons 
in  a  cutlery  case,  for  the  cold  sometimes  dipped  to  forty 
below. 

The  prisoner  of  the  city,  however,  may  think  sleeping  under 
such  conditions  not  only  a  terrible  hardship  but  a  very  dan- 
gerous thing  in  the  way  of  catching  one's  death  of  cold.  I 
can  assure  him  it  is  nothing  of  the  kind — ^when  the  bed  is  prop- 
erly made.  And  not  only  does  one  never  catch  cold  under 
such  conditions,  but  it  is  my  experience  that  there  is  no  easier 

160 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  161 

way  to  get  rid  of  a  bad  cold  than  to  sleep  out  in  the  snow, 
wrapped  in  a  Hudson's  Bay  blanket,  a  caribou  robe,  or  a  rab- 
bit-skin quilt,  when  the  thermometer  is  about  fifty  below  zero. 
But  rather  than  delay  over  a  description  in  detail  of  the  mere 
novelty  of  winter  travel,  let  us  hurry  along  to  our  first  destina- 
tion, and  visit  the  Free  Trader  Mr.  Spear  and  his  family, 
and  find  out  for  our  own  satisfaction  whether  or  not  the 
mysterious  "Son-in-law"  had  recently  been  courting  the 
charming  Athabasca. 

When  we  reached  God's  Lake,  for  a  while  we  snowshoed 
down  the  centre,  imtil  at  the  parting  of  our  ways  we  said  good- 
bye, for  the  Indians  were  heading  directly  for  Fort  Consolation. 
As  I  neared  Spearhead  and  came  in  view  of  its  one  and  only 
house,  the  Free  Trader's  dogs  set  up  a  howl,  and  Mr.  Spear 
came  out  to  greet  me  and  lead  me  into  the  sitting  room  where 
I  was  welcomed  by  his  wife  and  daughter.  Now  I  made  a  dis- 
covery: quartered  in  a  box  in  the  hall  behind  the  front  door 
they  had  three  geese  that  being  quite  free  to  walk  up  and  down 
the  hall,  occasionally  strolled  about  for  exercise.  As  good 
luck  would  have  it,  supper  was  nearly  ready,  and  I  had  just 
sufficient  time  to  make  use  of  the  tin  hand-basin  in  the  kitchen 
before  the  tea  bell  rang.  Again,  during  the  first  half  of  the 
meal  we  all  chatted  in  a  Hvely  strain,  all  save  Athabasca, 
who,  though  blushing  less  than  usual,  smiled  a  Httle  more, 
and  murmured  an  occasional  yes  or  no;  all  the  while  looking 
even  more  charming.  But  her  composure  endured  not  long, 
for  her  mother  presently  renewed  the  subject  of  "Son-in- 
law": 

"Father,  don't  you  think  it  would  be  a  good  idea  if  you  took 
son-in-law  into  partnership  very  soon.^" 

"Yes,  Mother,  I  do,  because  business  is  rapidly  growing, 
and  I'll  need  help  in  the  spring.  Besides,  it  would  give  me  a 
chance  to  do  my  own  fur-nmning*in  winter,  and  in  that  way  I 
believe  I  could  double,  if  not  treble,  our  income." 


162  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

Athabasca  turned  crimson  and  I  followed  suit — ^for  being 
a  bom  blusher  myself,  and  mortally  hating  it,  I  could  never 
refrain  from  sympathizing  with  others  similarly  afflicted. 

"Precisely,  Father,"  rephed  Mrs.  Spear,  "that's  exactly 
what  I  thought.  So  you  see  you  wouldn't  be  making  any 
sacrifice  whatever,  and  such  an  arrangement  would  prove  an 
advantage  all  round.  Everybody  would  be  the  happier  for  it, 
and  it  seems  to  me  to  delay  the  wedding  would  be  a  vital  mis- 
take." 

From  that  moment  imtil  we  left  the  table  Athabasca  con- 
centrated her  vision  on  her  plate;  and  I  wondered  more  than 
ever  who  "Son-in-law"  could  be.  Then  an  idea  came  to  me, 
and  I  mused:  "We'll  surely  see  him  at  Fort  Consolation." 

After  supper  I  discovered  a  new  member  of  the  household, 
a  chore-boy,  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  who  had  come  out  from 
England  to  learn  farming  in  the  Free  Trader's  stump  lot,  and 
who  was  paying  Mr.  Spear  so  many  hundred  dollars  a  year 
for  that  privilege,  and  also  for  the  pleasure  of  daily  cleaning 
out  the  stable — and  the  pig  pen.  When  I  first  saw  him,  I 
thought:  "Why  here,  at  last,  is  'Son-in-law.' "  But  on  second 
consideration,  I  knew  he  was  not  the  lucky  man,  for  it  was 
evident  the  Spears  did  not  recognize  him  as  their  social  equal, 
since  they  placed  him,  at  meal  time,  out  in  the  kitchen  at  the 
table  with  their  two  half-breed  maid-servants. 

That  evening,  while  sitting  around  the  big  wood  stove,  we 
discussed  Shakespeare,  Byron,  Scott,  and  even  the  latest  novel 
that  was  then  in  vogue — "Trilby,"  if  I  remember  right — ^for 
the  Spears  not  only  subscribed  to  the  Illustrated  London 
News  and  Blackwood's  but  they  took  Harper  s  and 
Scribners,  too.  And  by  the  way,  though  Athabasca  had 
never  been  to  school,  her  mother  had  personally  attended  to  her 
education.  When  bedtime  arrived,  they  all  peeled  off  their 
moccausins  and  stockings  and  hung  them  round  the  stove  to  dry, 
and  then  pitter-pattered  up  the  cold,  bare  stairs  in  their  bare 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  163 

feet.  I  was  shown  into  the  spare  room  and  given  a  candle, 
and  when  I  bade  them  good-night  and  tmned  to  close  the  door, 
I  discovered  that  there  was  no  door  to  close,  nor  was  there 
even  a  cmtain  to  screen  me  from  view.  The  bed,  however, 
was  an  old-fashioned  wooden  affair  with  a  big  sohd  footboard, 
so  I  concluded  that  in  case  of  any  one  passing  the  doorway, 
I  could  crouch  behind  the  foot  of  the  bed.  Then,  when  I 
blew  out  my  candle,  I  got  a  great  surprise,  for  lo  and  behold! 
I  could  see  all  over  the  house!  I  could  see  "Paw  and  Maw" 
getting  undressed,  Athabasca  saying  her  prayers,  and  the  half- 
breed  maids  getting  into  bed. 

How  did  it  happen?  The  cracks  between  the  upright  boards 
of  my  partition  were  so  wide  that  I  could  have  shoved  my 
fingers  through.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Mr.  Spear  explained  next 
day,  the  lumber  being  green,  rather  than  nail  the  boards  tightly 
into  place,  he  had  merely  stood  them  up,  and  waited  for  them 
to  season. 

During  the  night  the  cold  grew  intense,  and  several 
times  I  was  startled  out  of  my  sleep  by  a  frosty  report  from 
the  ice  and  snow  on  the  roof  that  reminded  one  of  the  firing  of  a 
cannon. 

In  the  morning  when  the  geese  began  screeching  in  the 
lower  hall,  I  thought  it  was  time  to  get  up,  and  was  soon  in  the 
very  act  of  puUing  off  a  certain  garment  over  my  head  when 
one  of  the  half-breed  maids — the  red-headed  one  whose  hair 
Mr.  Spear  had  cut  off  with  the  horse  chppers — ^intruded 
herself  into  my  room  to  see  if  I  were  going  to  be  down  in 
time  for  breakfast,  and  I  had  to  drop  behind  the  foot  of 
the  bed. 

At  breakfast,  the  first  course  was  oatmeal  porridge;  the 
second,  "Son-in-law";  the  third,  fried  bacon,  toast,  and  tea; 
after  which  we  all  put  on  our  wraps  for  our  five-mile  trip  across 
God's  Lake  to  Fort  Consolation.  Everyone  went,  maids, 
chore-boy,  and  all,  and  everyone  made  the  trip  on  snowshoes — 


164  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

all  save  the  trader's  wife,  who  rode  in  state,  in  a  carriole, 
hauled  by  a  tandem  train  of  four  dogs. 

THE  NEW  year's  DANCE 

It  was  a  beautiful  sunny  day  and  the  air  was  very  still; 
and  though  the  snow  was  wind-packed  and  hard,  the  footing 
was  very  tiresome,  for  the  whole  surface  of  the  lake  was  just  one 
endless  mass  of  hard-packed  snowdrifts  that  represented  noth- 
ing so  much  as  a  great,  stormy,  white-capped  sea  that  had  been 
instantly  congealed.  And  for  us  it  was  just  up  and  down,  in 
and  out,  up  and  down,  in  and  out,  all  the  way  over.  These 
sohd  white  waves,  however,  proved  one  thing,  and  that  was 
the  truth  of  Oo-koo-hoo's  woodcraft;  for,  just  as  he  had  previ- 
ously told  me,  if  we  had  been  suddenly  encompassed  by  a 
dense  fog  or  a  heavy  snowstorm,  we  could  never  for  a  moment 
have  strayed  from  our  true  course;  as  all  the  drifts  pointed 
one  way,  south-by-southeast,  and  therefore  must  have  kept  us 
to  our  proper  direction. 

There  were  many  dogs  and  sleds,  and  many  Indians  and  half- 
breeds,  too,  about  the  Fort  when  we  arrived;  and  as  the  dogs 
heralded  our  approach,  the  Factor  came  out  to  greet  us  and 
wish  us  a  Happy  New  Year.  At  the  door  Mrs.  Mackenzie, 
the  half-breed  wife  of  the  Factor,  was  waiting  with  a  beaming 
smile  and  a  hearty  welcome  for  us ;  and  after  we  had  removed  our 
outer  wraps,  she  led  us  over  to  the  storehouse  in  which  a  big 
room  had  been  cleared,  and  heated,  and  decorated  to  answer 
as  a  baUroom  and  banqueting  hall.  Tables  were  being  laid 
for  the  feast,  and  Indian  mothers  and  maidens  and  children, 
too,  were  already  sitting  on  the  floor  around  the  sides  of  the 
room,  and  with  sparkhng  eyes  were  watching  the  work  in 
happy  expectation.  Around  the  doorway,  both  out  and  in, 
stood  the  men — Indians  and  half-breeds  and  a  few  French 
and  Enghsh  Canadians.    Some  wore  hairy  caribou  capotes, 


The  bear  circled  a  little  in  order  to  descend.  Presently  it  left  the 
shadow  of  the  forest  and,  emerging  into  sunlight  on  a  snow-covered 
ledge,  turned  its  tiead  as  though  it  had  heard  a  sound  in  the 
rear.  It  was  Oo-koo-hoo  speaking:  ''Turn  your  head  away,  my 
brother  .  .  .''  butthe  report  of  his  gun  cut  short  his  sentence,  and 
the  bear,  leaping  forward  .disappeared  among ,  .    .     .    See  Cfiapter  IV 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  165 

others  hairless  moose-skin  jackets  trimmed  with  otter  or  beaver 
fur,  others  again  were  garbed  in  duffel  capotes  of  various  colours 
with  hoods  and  turned-back  cuffs  of  another  hue;  but  the 
majority  wore  capotes  made  of  Hudson's  Bay  blanket  and 
trimmed  with  slashed  fringes  at  the  shoulders  and  skirt;  while 
their  legs  were  encased  in  trousers  gartered  below  the  knee, 
and  their  feet  rested  comfortably  in  moccasins.  Though,  when 
snowshoeing,  all  the  men  wore  hip-high  leggings  of  duffel  or 
blanket,  the  former  sometimes  decorated  with  a  broad  strip  of 
another  colour,  the  latter  were  always  befringed  the  whole  way 
down  the  outer  seam;  both  kinds  were  gartered  at  the  knee. 
Such  leggings  are  always  removed  when  entering  a  lodge  or 
house  or  when  resting  beside  a  campfire — ^in  order  to  free  the 
legs  from  the  gathered  snow  and  prevent  it  from  thawing  and 
wetting  the  trousers.  The  children  wore  outer  garments  of 
either  blanket  or  rabbit  skin,  while  the  women  gloried  in  bril- 
hant  plaid  shawls  of  two  sizes — a  small  one  for  the  head  and  a 
large  one  for  the  shoulders.  The  short  cloth  skirts  of  the 
women  and  girls  were  made  so  that  the  fullness  at  the  waist, 
instead  of  being  cut  away,  was  merely  puckered  into  place,  and 
beneath  the  lower  hem  of  the  skirt  showed  a  pair  of  beaded 
leggings  and  a  pair  of  silk-worked  moccasins. 

All  the  Indians  shook  hands  with  us,  for  in  the  Canadian 
Government's  treaty  with  them  it  is  stipulated  that:  "We 
expect  you  to  be  good  friends  with  everyone,  and  shake  hands 
with  all  whom  you  meet."  And  I  might  further  add  that  the 
Indian — when  one  meets  him  in  the  winter  bush — is  more 
pohte  than  the  average  white  man,  for  he  always  removes  his 
mitten,  and  offers  one  his  bare  hand.  Further,  if  his  hand 
happens  to  be  dirty,  he  will  spit  on  it  and  rub  it  on  his  leggings 
to  try  and  cleanse  it  before  presenting  it  to  you.  But  when  he 
did  that,  I  could  never  decide  which  was  the  more  acceptable 
condition — before  or  after. 

When  the  Factor  entered,  he  was  greeted  with  a  perfect  gale 


166  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

of  merriment,  as  it  was  the  ancient  custom  of  the  Great  Com- 
pany that  he  should  kiss  every  woman  and  girl  at  the  New 
Year's  feast.  After  that  historical  ceremony  was  over — in 
which  Free  Trader  Spear  also  had  to  do  his  duty— and  the 
laughter  had  subsided,  the  principal  guests  were  seated  at  the 
Factor's  table,  the  company  consisting  of  the  three  clergymen, 
the  Spears,  myself,  the  two  North- West  Mounted  Pohcemen — 
who  had  just  arrived  from  the  south — and  a  few  native  head- 
men, including  my  friend  Oo-koo-hoo.  Though  the  feast  was 
served  in  relays,  some  of  the  guests  who  were  too  hungry  to 
await  their  turn  were  served  as  they  sat  about  the  floor.  The 
dishes  included  the  choice  of  moose,  caribou,  bear,  lynx, 
beaver,  or  muskrat. 

Then  a  couple  of  picturesque,  shock-haired  French  Cana- 
dians got  up  on  a  big  box  that  rested  upon  a  table,  and  tuning 
up  their  fiddles,  the  dance  was  soon  in  full  swing.  In  rapid 
succession  the  music  changed  from  the  Double  Jig  to  the  Reel 
of  Four,  the  Duck  Dance,  the  Double  Reel  of  Four,  the  Reel 
of  Eight,  and  the  Red  River  Jig,  till  the  old  log  storehouse  shook 
from  its  foundation  right  up  to  its  very  rafters.  The  breath- 
less, perspiring,  but  happy  couples  kept  at  it  until  exhaustion 
fairly  overtook  them,  and  then  dropping  out  now  and  then,  they 
sat  on  the  floor  around  the  walls  tiU  they  had  rested;  and  then, 
with  aU  their  might  and  main,  they  went  at  it  again.  Among 
other  things  I  noticed  that  the  natives  who  were  smoking 
were  so  considerate  of  their  hosts'  feelings  that  they  never 
for  a  moment  forgot  themselves  enough  to  soil  the  freshly 
scrubbed  floor,  but  always  used  their  upturned  fur  caps  as 
cuspidors. 

The  children,  even  the  little  tots,  showed  great  interest  in 
the  dancing  of  their  parents,  and  so  delighted  did  they  become 
that  they  would  sometimes  gather  in  a  group  in  a  corner  and 
try  to  step  in  time  with  the  music. 

Everyone  that  could  dance  took  a  turn — even  Oo-koo-hoo 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  167 

and  old  Granny  did  the  "light  fantastic" — and  at  one  time  or 
another  all  the  principal  guests  were  upon  the  floor;  all  save — 
the  priest.  The  scarlet  tunics  of  the  corporal  and  the  con- 
stable of  the  Royal  North- West  Mounted  Police  as  well  as  the 
sombre  black  of  the  English  Church  and  the  Presbyterian 
clergymen,  added  much  to  the  whirling  colour  scheme,  as  well 
as  to  the  joy  of  the  occasion.  But  look  where  I  would  I  could 
not  find  "Son-in-law,"  and  though  the  blushing  Athabasca 
was  often  in  the  dance,  it  was  plain  to  see  her  lover  was  not 
there,  for  even  the  handsome  pohcemen,  though  they  paid 
her  marked  attention,  gave  no  sign,  either  of  them,  of  being 
the  lucky  one.  In  the  number  of  partners,  Oo-koo-hoo's 
granddaughter  outshone  them  all,  and,  moreover,  her  lover 
was  present.  At  every  chance  Shing-wauk — The  Little  Pine — 
was  shyly  whispering  to  her  and  she  was  looking  very  happy. 
Even  I  rose  to  the  occasion  and  had  for  my  first  partner  our 
host's  swarthy  wife,  a  wonderful  performer,  who,  after  her 
husband's  retirement  from  the  service  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company,  became  the  most  popular  dancer  in  aU  Winnipeg. 
Nor  must  I  forget  my  dance  with  that  merry,  muscular,  iron- 
framed  lady,  Oo-koo-hoo's  better  half — old  Granny — who  at 
first  crumpled  me  up  in  her  gorilla-hke  embrace,  and  ended  by 
swinging  me  clean  off  my  feet,  much  to  the  merriment  of  the 
Indian  maidens. 

As  the  afternoon  wore  on  the  Rabbit  Dance  began,  and  was 
soon  followed  by  the  Hug-Me-Snug,  the  Drops  of  Brandy,  and 
the  Saskatchewan  Circle,  and — ^last  but  not  least — the  Kissing 
Dance.  And  when  the  Kissing  Dance  was  encored  for  the  fifth 
time,  the  company  certainly  proclaimed  it  a  Happy  New  Year. 

THE  BEAUTIFUL  ATHABASCA 

Again  at  tea  time  the  guests  gathered  round  the  festive 
board;  then,  a  little  later,  the  music  once  more  signalled  the 


168  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

dancers  to  take  their  places  on  the  floor.  Hour  after  hour  it 
went  on.  After  midnight  another  supper  was  served;  but  still 
"the  band" — consisting  of  a  violin  and  a  concertina — ^played 
on,  and  still  the  moccasined  feet  pounded  the  floor  without 
intermission.  At  the  very  height  of  the  fun,  when  the  Free 
Trader's  charming  daughter  was  being  whirled  about  by  a 
scarlet  tunic,  Mrs.  Spear  turned  to  me  and  beamed: 

"Doesn't  Athabasca  look  radiantly  beautiful.^" 

"  Indeed  she  does ! "  I  blushed. 

"And  what  a  dehghtful  party  this  is  .  .  .  but  there's 
just  one  thing  lacking    ...    to  make  it  perfect." 

"What's  that? "    I  enquired. 

"A  wedding  .  .  .  my  dear."  Then,  after  a  long  pause, 
during  which  she  seemed  to  be  staring  at  me — but  I  didn't 
dare  look — she  impatiently  tossed  her  head  and  exclaimed: 

"My    .     .    .    but  some  men  are  deathly  slow!" 

"Indeed  they  are,"  I  agreed. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  music  died  down, 
then,  after  much  hand-shaking,  the  company  dispersed  in 
various  directions  over  the  moonht  snow;  some  to  their  near-by 
lodges,  some  to  the  log  shacks  in  the  now-deserted  Indian 
village,  and  others  to  their  distant  hunting  grounds.  It  must 
have  been  nearly  five  o'clock  before  the  ladies  in  the  Factor's 
house  went  upstairs,  and  the  men  lay  down  upon  caribou, 
bear,  and  buffalo  skins  on  the  otherwise  bare  floor  of  the  hving 
room.  It  was  late  next  morning  when  we  arose,  yet  already 
the  pohcemen  had  vanished — they  had  again  set  out  on  their 
long  northern  patrol. 

At  breakfast  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spear  invited  me  to  return  and 
spend  the  night  with  them,  and  as  Oo-koo-hoo  and^his  wife 
wanted  to  remain  a  few  days  to  visit  some  Indian  friends,  and 
as^the_Factor_had  told  me  that  the  north-bound  packet  with 
thewinter'smail  from  the  railroad  was  soon  due;  and  as, 
moreover,  the  Fur  Brigade  would  be  starting  south  in  a  few 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  169 

days,  and  it  would  travel  for  part  of  the  way  along  our  home- 
ward trail,  I  accepted  Mr.  Mackenzie's  invitation  to  return 
to  Fort  Consolation  and  depart  with  the  Fur  Brigade. 

It  was  a  cold  trip  across  the  lake  as  the  thermometer  had 
dropped  many  degrees  and  a  northwest  wind  was  blowing  in 
our  faces.  As  I  had  frequently  had  my  nose  frozen,  it  now 
turned  white  very  quickly,  and  a  half-breed,  who  was  crossing 
with  us,  turned  round  every  once  in  a  while  and  exclaimed  to 
me: 

"Oh  my  gudi  your  nose  all  froze!" 

The  snow  seemed  harder  than  ever,  and  for  long  stretches 
we  took  off  our  snowshoes  and  ran  over  the  drifts,  but  so  wind- 
packed  were  they  that  they  received  httle  impression  from  our 
feet.  Of  course,  when  we  arrived  at  Spearhead,  the  house  was 
cold  and  everything  in  it  above  the  cellar — except  the  cats  and 
geese — ^was  frozen  sohd;  but  it  is  surprising  how  quickly  those 
good  old-fashioned  box  stoves  will  heat  a  dwelling;  for  in 
twenty  or  thirty  minutes  those  wood-burning  stoves  were  red- 
hot  and  the  whole  house  comfortably  warm. 

It's  strange,  but  nevertheless  true,  that  "Son-in-law"  was 
never  once  mentioned  at  dinner,  but  later  on,  when  Athabasca 
and  I  were  sitting  one  on  either  side  of  the  room,  Mrs.  Spear 
got  up  and,  getting  a  pictm-e  book,  asked: 

"Mr.  Heming,  are  you  fond  of  pictures?  Daughter  has  a 
dehghtful  httle  picture  book  here  that  I  want  her  to  show  you, 
so  now,  my  dears,  both  sit  over  there  on  the  sofa  where  the 
light  will  be  better,  and  look  at  it  together." 

Moving  over  to  the  old  horsehair  sofa — the  pride  of  all 
Spearhead  and  even  of  Fort  Consolation — we  sat  down  to- 
gether, much  closer  than  I  had  expected,  as  some  of  the  springs 
were  broken,  thus  forming  a  hollow  in  the  centre  of  the  affair, 
into  which  we  both  shd  without  warning — just  as  though  it 
were  a  trap  set  for  bashful  people.  Then  Mrs.  Spear  with  a 
sigh,  evidently  of  satisfaction,  withdrew  from  the  room,  and 


170  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

we  were  left  alone  together.    With  the  book  spread  out  upon 

our  knees  we  looked  it  over  for  perhaps Well,  I  am  not  sure 

how  long,  but  anyway,  when  I  came  to,  I  saw  something  just 
in  front  of  me  on  the  floor.  Really,  it  startled  me.  For  in 
following  it  up  with  my  eye  I  discovered  that  it  was  the  toe  of 
a  moccasin,  and  the  worst  of  it  was  that  it  was  being  worn 
by  Mrs.  Spear.  There,  for  ever  so  long,  she  must  have  been 
standing  and  watching  us.  The  worst  of  that  household  was 
that  all  its  members  wore  moccasins,  so  you  could  never  hear 
them  coming. 

That  night,  when  we  were  sitting  around  the  stove,  Mrs. 
Spear  explained  to  me  how  she  had  educated  her  daughter  and 
added:  "But  perhaps,  after  all,  if  the  wedding  is  not  going  to 
take  place  right  away,  it  might  be  well  to  send  Daughter  to 
some  finishing  school  for  a  few  months — say  in  Toronto,"  and 
then,  after  a  Uttle  pause,  and  still  looking  at  me,  she  asked : 
"To  which  school  would  you  prefer  us  to  send  Athabasca?" 

When  I  named  the  most  fashionable  girls'  school  in  that 
city,  "Paw  and  Maw"  settled  it,  there  and  then,  that  Daughter 
would  attend  it  next  fall,  that  is,  unless  it  was  decided  to 
celebrate  her  wedding  at  an  earher  date. 

Next  morning,  at  breakfast,  Mrs.  Spear  suggested  that 
Athabasca  should  take  me  for  a  drive  through  the  woods  and 
Mr.  Spear  remarked: 

"You  know,  Mr.  Heming,  we  haven't  any  cutter  or  any 
suitable  sleigh,  and  besides,  one  of  the  horses  is  working  in  the 
stimip  lot;  but  I  think  I  can  manage." 

In  a  little  while  he  led  a  horse  round  to  the  front  door.  The 
animal  had  a  pole  attached  to  either  side,  the  other  end  of 
which  dragged  out  behind;  across  the  two  poles,  just  behind 
the  horse's  tail,  was  fastened  a  rack  of  cross  poles  upon  which 
was  placed  some  straw  and  a  buffalo  robe.  It  was  really  a 
travois,  the  kind  of  conveyance  used  by  the  Plains  Indians. 
Getting  aboard  the  affair,  off  we  went,  the  old  plug  rumbling 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  171 

along  in  a  kind  of  a  trotting  walk,  while  Athabasca  held  the 
reins.  The  morning  being  a  fine  sunny  one,  and  the  trees 
being  draped  and  festooned  with  snow,  the  scene  was  so  beauti- 
ful when  we  got  into  the  thicker  woods  that  it  made  one  think 
of  fairyland.  A  couple  of  fluffy  httle  whiskey  jacks  followed 
us  all  the  way  there  and  back,  just  as  though  they  wanted  to 
see  and  hear  everything  that  was  going  on;  but  those  Uttle 
meddlers  of  the  northwoods  must  have  been  disappointed, 
for  both  Athabasca  and  I  were  not  only  too  shy  to  talk,  but  too 
bashful  even  to  sit  upright;  in  fact,  we  both  leaned  so  far 
away  from  one  another  that  we  each  hung  over  our  side  of  the 
trap,  and  did  nothing  but  gaze  far  off  into  the  enchanted  wood. 
We  must  have  been  gone  nearly  two  hours  when  the  house 
again  came  into  view.  Yes,  I  enjoyed  it.  It  was  so  romantic. 
But  what  I  couldn't  understand  was  why  her  parents  allowed 
her  to  go  with  me,  when  they  were  already  counting  on  "Son- 
in-law"  marrying  her.  It  was  certainly  a  mystery  to  me. 
However,  that  afternoon  I  left  for  Fort  Consolation. 

BACK  TO  FORT  CONSOLATION 

On  my  way  across  the  lake  I  noticed  that  the  wind  was 
veering  round  toward  the  east  and  that  the  temperature  was 
rising.  When  I  arrived  in  good  time  for  supper  Factor 
Mackenzie  seemed  reheved,  and  remarked  that  the  barometer 
indicated  a  big  storm  from  the  northeast.  That  night,  in 
front  of  the  big  open  fire,  we  talked  of  the  fur  trade.  Among 
other  books  and  papers  he  showed  me  was  a  copy  of  the  Com- 
pany's Deed  Poll;  not  published  a  century  ago,  but  printed 
at  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  and  thus  it  read : 

"To  aU  whom  these  presents  shall  come.  The  Grovemor 
and  Company  of  Adventurers  of  England  Trading  into  Hud- 
son's Bay  send  greeting.  Whereas  His  Majesty  King  Charles 
the  Second  did,  by  His  Royal  Charter,  constitute  the  Governor 


172  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

and  Company  of  Adventurers  of  England  trading  into  Hud- 
son's Bay  in  a  Body  Corporate,  with  perpetual  succession  and 
with  power  to  elect  a  Governor  and  Deputy  Governor  and 
Committee  for  the  management  of  their  trade  and  affairs ." 

From  it  I  learned  that  the  commissioned  officers  appointed 
by  the  Company  to  carry  on  their  trade  in  Canada  were: 
a  Commissioner,  three  Inspecting  Chief  Factors,  eight  Chief 
Factors,  fifteen  Factors,  ten  Chief  Traders,  and  twenty-one 
Junior  Chief  Traders,  all  of  whom  on  appointment  became 
shareholders  in  the  Company.  While  the  Governor  and  Com- 
mittee had  their  offices  in  London,  the  Commissioner  was  the 
Canadian  head  with  his  offices  in  Winnipeg,  and  to  assist  him 
an  advisory  council,  composed  of  Chief  Factors  and  Chief 
Traders,  was  occasionally  called.  The  Company's  territory 
was  divided  into  four  departments — the  Western,  the  South- 
em,  the  Northern,  and  the  Montreal — ^while  each  department 
was  again  sub-divided  into  many  districts,  the  total  number 
being  thirty-four.  The  non-commissioned  employees  at  the 
various  posts  were:  clerks,  postmasters,  and  servants.  Besides 
the  regular  post  servants  there  were  others  employed  such  as: 
voyageurs,  among  whom  were  the  guides,  canoe-men,  boatmen, 
and  scowmen;  then,  again,  there  were  fur-runners,  fort-hunters, 
and  packeteers. 

In  the  morning  a  miserable  northeaster  was  blowing  a  heavy 
fall  of  snow  over  the  country,  and  the  Factor  offered  to  show 
me  the  fur-loft  where  the  clerk  and  a  few  half-breed  men- 
servants  were  folding  and  packing  furs.  First  they  were  put 
into  a  collapsible  mould  to  hold  them  in  the  proper  form,  then 
when  the  desired  weight  of  eighty  pounds  had  been  reached, 
they  were  passed  into  a  powerful  home-made  fur-press,  and 
after  being  pressed  down  into  a  sohd  pack,  were  corded  and 
covered  with  burlap,  and  marked  ready  for  shipment.  The 
room  in  which  the  men  worked  was  a  big  loft  with  endless 
bundles  of  skins  of  many  sizes  and  colours  hanging  from  the 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  173 

rafters,  and  with  long  rows  of  shelves  stacked  with  folded  furs, 
and  with  huge  piles  of  pelts  and  opened  bales  upon  the  floor. 
Also  there  were  moose  and  caribou  horns  lying  about,  and 
bundles  of  Indian-made  snowshoes  hanging  by  wires  from  the 
rafters,  and  in  one  corner  kegs  of  dried  beaver  castors. 

THE  WINTER  MAIL  ARRIVES 

On  the  morning  of  the  second  day  of  the  stonn  I  happened 
to  be  in  the  Indian  shop,  where  I  had  gone  to  see  the  Factor 
and  the  clerk  barter  for  the  furs  of  a  recently  arrived  party  of 
Indian  fur-hunters,  when  presently  I  was  startled  by  hearing: 

"  Voyez,  voyez,  lepacquet .'"  shouted  by  Bateese  as  he  flound- 
ered into  the  trading  room  without  a  thought  of  closing  the 
door,  though  the  drifting  snow  scurried  in  after  him.  Vocifer- 
ously he  called  to  the  others  to  come  and  see,  and  instantly 
trade  was  stopped.  The  Factor,  the  clerk,  and  the  Indians, 
rushed  to  the  doorway  to  obtain  a  glimpse  of  the  long-expected 
packet.  For  two  days  the  storm  had  raged,  and  the  snow  was 
still  blowing  in  clouds  that  blotted  out  the  neighbouring  forest. 

"Come  awa',  Bateese,  ye  auld  fule!  Come  awa'  ben,  an 
steek  yon  door!  Ye  dinna  see  ony  packet! "  roared  the  Factor, 
who  could  distinguish  nothing  through  the  flying  snow. 

''Bien,  m'sieu,  mebbe  she  not  very  clear  jus'  now;  but  w'en 
I  pass  from  de  Mad  Wolf's  HiU,  w'en  de  storm  she  lif '  a  leetle, 
I  see  two  men  an'  dog- train  on  de  lac  below  de  islan's,"  rephed 
the  half-breed  fort-hunter,  who  had  returned  from  a  caribou 
cache,  and  whose  duty  it  was  to  keep  the  fort  supphed  with 
meat. 

"Weel,  fetch  me  the  gless,  ma  mon;  fetch  me  the  gless 
an'  aibUns  we  may  catch  a  ghnt  o'  them  through  this  smoorin' 
snaw;  though  I  doot  it's  the  packet,  as  ye  say."  And  the 
Factor  stood  shading  his  eyes  and  gazing  anxiously  in  the 
direction  of  the  invisible  islands.    But  before  the  fort-hunter 


174  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

had  returned  with  the  telescope,  the  snowy  veil  suddenly 
thinned  and  revealed  the  gray  figure  of  a  tripper  coming  up  the 
bank. 

''Quay,  quay!  Ke-e-e-pling!"  sang  out  one  of  the  Indians. 
He  had  recognized  the  tripper  to  be  Kipling,  the  famous  snow- 
shoe  runner.  Immediately  all  save  the  Factor  rushed  for- 
ward  to  meet  the  Httle  half-breed  who  was  in  charge  of  the 
storm-bound  packet,  and  to  welcome  him  with  a  fusilade  of 
gunshots. 

Everyone  was  happy  now,  for  last  year's  news  of  the  ''Grand 
Pays'' — the  habitant's  significant  term  for  the  outer  world — 
had  at  last  arrived.  The  monotonous  routine  of  the  Post 
was  forgotten.  To-day  the  long,  dreary  silence  of  the  winter 
would  be  again  broken  in  upon  by  hearty  feasting,  merry  music, 
and  joyous  dancing  in  honour  of  the  arrival  of  the  half-yearly 
mail. 

All  crowded  round  the  voyageur,  who,  though  scarcely 
more  than  five  feet  in  height,  was  famed  as  a  snowshoe  runner 
throughout  the  wilderness  stretching  from  the  Canadian 
Pacific  Raihoad  to  the  Arctic  Ocean.  While  they  were  eagerly 
plying  him  with  questions,  the  crack  of  a  dog-whip  was  heard. 
Soon  the  faint  tinkling  of  bells  came  through  the  storm.  In 
a  moment  all  the  dogs  of  the  settlement  were  in  an  uproar, 
for  the  packet  had  arrived. 

With  a  final  rush  the  gaunt,  travel-worn  dogs  galloped 
through  the  driving  snow,  and,  eager  for  the  shelter  of  the 
trading  room,  bolted  pell-mell  through  the  gathering  at  the 
doorway,  upsetting  several  spectators  before  the  driver  could 
halt  the  runaways  by  falhng  headlong  upon  the  foregoer's 
back  and  flattening  him  to  the  floor. 

AU  was  excitement.  Every  dog  at  the  post  dashed  in  with 
bristhng  hair  and  clamping  jaws  to  overawe  the  strangers. 
Amid  the  hubbub  of  shouting  men,  women,  and  children,  the 
cracking  of  whips,  and  the  yelping  of  dogs,  the  packet  was 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  175 

removed  from  the  overturned  sled  and  hustled  into  the  Factor's 
office,  where  it  was  opened,  and  the  mail  quickly  overhauled. 
While  the  Factor  and  his  clerk  were  busily  writing  despatches, 
a  relay  of  dogs  was  being  harnessed,  and  two  fresh  runners  were 
making  ready  to  speed  the  mail  upon  its  northward  way. 

Before  long  the  Factor's  letters  were  sealed  and  carefully 
deposited  in  the  packet  box,  which  was  lashed  on  the  tail  of  the 
sled,  the  forepart  of  which  was  packed  with  blankets,  flour, 
tea,  and  pork  for  the  packeteers,  and  frozen  whitefish  for  the 
dogs.  Then  amid  the  usual  handshaking  the  word  ''Marche!'' 
was  given,  and  to  the  tune  of  cracking  whips,  whining  dogs,  and 
crunching  snow,  the  northern  packet  ghded  out  upon  the  lake 
with  the  Indian  track-beater  hmrying  far  ahead  while  the  half- 
breed  dog-driver  loped  behind  the  sled.  Thus  for  over  two 
centuries  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  had  been  sending  its 
mails  through  the  great  wilderness  of  Northern  Canada. 

THE  DOG  BRIGADE 

That  afternoon  five  dog-trains  arrived  from  outlying  posts. 
They  had  come  to  join  the  Dog  Brigade  that  was  to  leave  Fort 
Consolation  first  thing  in  the  morning  on  its  southern  way  to 
the  far-off  railroad.  As  I  wished  to  accompany  the  brigade,  I 
had  arranged  with  Oo-koo-hoo  that  we  should  do  so,  as  far  as 
we  could  without  going  out  of  our  way,  in  returning  to  his 
himting  grounds.  So  to  bed  that  night  we  all  went  very  early, 
and  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  were  astir  again.  Break- 
fast was  soon  over,  then  followed  the  packing  of  the  sleds,  the 
harnessing  of  the  dogs,  the  shpping  of  moccasined  feet  into 
snowshoe  thongs,  the  shaking  of  hands,  and  the  wishing  of 
farewells.  Already  the  tracker,  or  track-beater,  had  gone 
ahead  to  break  the  trail. 

'*M-a-r-r-cke!"  (start)  shouted  the  guide — as  the  head  dog- 
driver  is  called.  Every  driver  repeated  the  word;  whips  cracked; 


176  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

dogs  howled,  and  the  brigade  moved  forward  in  single  file. 
At  the  head  went  the  Factor's  train  of  four  powerful-looking  and 
handsomely  harnessed  dogs  hauling  a  decorated  carriole  in 
which  the  Factor  rode  and  behind  which  trotted  a  pictm-esque 
half-breed  driver.  Next  in  order  went  the  teams  of  the  Church 
of  England  clergyman  and  the  Roman  Catholic  priest,  both  of 
whom  happened  to  be  going  out  to  the  railroad.  Behind  these 
followed  twelve  sleds  or  toboggans,  laden  with  furs,  which  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company  was  shipping  to  its  Department 
Headquarters.  When  one  remembers  that  black  or  silver  fox 
skins  are  frequently  sold  for  over  a  thousand  dollars  each,  one 
may  surmise  the  great  value  of  a  cargo  of  furs  weighing  nearly 
four  thousand  pounds,  such  as  the  Dog  Brigade  was  hauHng. 
No  wonder  the  Company  was  using  all  haste  to  place 
those  furs  on  the  London  market  before  the  then  high  prices 
feU. 

The  brigade  formed  an  interesting  sight,  as  the  Indians, 
half-breeds,  and  white  men  were  garbed  most  curiously;  and  in 
strong  contrast  to  the  brilliant  colours  worn  by  the  members 
of  the  brigade,  the  clergymen  trotted  along  in  their  sombre 
black — the  priest's  cassock  flowing  to  his  snowshoes,  and  his 
crucifix  thrust,  daggerlike,  in  his  girdle. 

The  four  dogs  comprising  each  of  the  fur-trains  hauled 
three  hundred  pounds  of  fur  besides  the  camp  outfit  and  grub 
for  both  driver  and  dogs — ^in  all,  about  five  hundred  pounds  to 
the  sled.  When  the  sleighing  grew  heavy,  the  drivers  used 
long  pushing-poles  against  the  ends  of  the  sleds  to  help  the 
dogs. 

TRAVELLING   WITH   DOG-TBAINS 

While  the  march  always  started  in  a  stately  way — the  Fac- 
tor's carriole  in  advance — ^it  was  not  long  before  the  trains 
abandoned  their  formal  order;  for  whenever  one  train  was 
delayed  through  any  one  of  many  reasons,  the  train  behind 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  177 

invariably  strove  to  steal  ahead  so  that  after  a  few  hours' 
run  the  best  dogs  were  usually  leading. 

For  several  hours  we  followed  the  lake  and  the  river,  and 
just  before  dayhght  appeared  in  the  southeastern  sky  the  Aurora 
Boreahs  vanished  from  view.  Later,  a  golden  glow  tipping  the 
tops  of  the  tallest  trees,  heralded  the  rising  of  the  sun.  Coming 
out  upon  a  httle  lake — for  we  were  now  short-cutting  across 
the  country — ^we  saw  that  the  hght  over  the  distant  hills  had 
broken  into  a  glorious  flood  of  sunshine.  Half  over  the  far-ofiT 
trees,  along  the  horizon,  the  sun  was  shining,  and  the  whole 
southeastern  sky  seemed  aflame  with  bsuids  and  baUs  of  fire. 
A  vertical  ribbon  of  graduaUy  diminishing  lustre,  scarcely  wider 
than  the  sim,  was  rising  into  the  heavens  to  meet  a  vast  semi- 
circle of  rainbow  beauty  arched  above  the  natural  sun.  Where 
the  strange  halo  cut  the  vertical  flame  and  the  horizon  on  either 
side  three  mock  suns  marked  the  intersection.  Above  the 
natural  sun  and  beneath  the  halo,  four  other  mock  suns  studded 
the  vertical  band  of  hght.  It  was  a  wonderful  sight  and 
lasted  fully  twenty  minutes — the  sky  was  just  as  I  have  shown 
it  in  my  picture  of  the  York  Factory  Packet. 

Now  the  brigade  was  halted,  in  voyageur  parlance,  "to 
spell  the  dogs  one  smoke,"  which,  being  translated,  meant  that 
the  dogs  could  rest  as  long  as  it  took  their  masters  to  smoke  a 
pipeful  of  tobacco.  The  drivers,  conversing  in  httle  groups  or 
sitting  upon  sleds  as  they  puffed  at  their  pipes,  watched  the 
beautiful  phenomenon,  and  the  talk  turned  to  the  many  re- 
markable sun-dogs  that  they  had  seen.  Presently  the  mock 
suns  grew  dim;  the  arch  faded  away;  the  band  lost  its  colour; 
the  true  sun  rose  above  the  trees  and  then,  as  ashes  were 
knocked  from  pipes,  we  resumed  our  journey. 

After  leaving  the  lake  we  entered  a  muskeg  that  extended 
for  miles.  Its  uneven  surface  was  studded  with  countless 
grassy  hummocks,  many  of  them  crowned  with  wiUow  and 
alder  bushes  or  gnarled  and  stunted  spruces  or  jack  pines. 


178  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

It  made  hard  hauling  for  the  dogs.  From  a  distance,  the 
closely  following  trains  reminded  one  of  a  great  serpent  passing 
over  the  comitry,  that — ^when  it  encountered  a  hummocky 
section  requiring  the  trains  to  turn  from  side  to  side,  and  to 
glide  up  and  down — seemed  to  be  writhing  in  pain.  Near 
the  end  of  the  swamp  an  open  hillside  rose  before  us,  and  upon 
its  snowy  slopes  the  sun  showed  thousands  of  rabbit-runs 
intersecting  one  another  in  a  maze  of  tracks  that  made  one 
think  of  a  vast  gray  net  cast  over  the  hill. 

Passing  into  a  "bent-pole"  district  we  encountered  an 
endless  number  of  Httle  spruce  trees,  the  tops  of  which  had 
become  so  laden  with  snow  that  their  slender  stems,  no  longer 
able  to  sustain  the  weight,  had  bent  almost  double  as  they 
let  their  white-capped  heads  rest  in  the  snow  upon  the  ground. 
Later,  we  entered  a  park-like  forest  where  pine  trees  stood 
apart  with  seldom  any  brushwood  between.  Fresh  marten 
tracks  were  noticed  in  the  snow.  A  httle  farther  on,  two  timber- 
wolves  were  seen  shnking  along  like  shadows  among  the  distant 
trees  as  they  paralleled  our  trail  on  the  right.  The  dogs  noticed 
them,  too,  but  they,  like  their  masters,  were  too  busy  to  pay 
much  attention.  The  wolves  were  big  handsome  creatures 
with  thick  fluffy  coats  that  waved  Uke  taU  grasses  in  a  strong 
breeze  as  they  bounded  along. 

Coming  to  a  steep  hill  everyone  helped  the  dogs  in  their 
climb.  When  at  last  the  brigade,  puffing  and  panting,  reached 
the  summit,  pipes  were  at  once  in  evidence  and  then  another 
rest  followed.  When  the  descent  began,  the  drivers — most 
of  them  having  removed  their  snowshoes  that  their  feet  might 
sink  deeper  into  the  snow — ^seized  their  trail-hnes,  and,  acting 
as  anchors  behind  the  sleds,  allowed  themselves  to  be  hauled 
stiff-legged  through  the  deep  snow  in  their  effort  to  keep  the 
sleds  from  over-running  the  dogs.  It  was  exciting  work.  The 
men  throwing  their  utmost  weight  upon  the  lines  sought  every 
obstruction,  swerving  against  trees,  bracing   against  roots, 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  179 

grasping  at  branches,  and  floundering  through  bushes.  Often 
they  fell,  and  occasionally,  when  they  failed  to  regain  their 
footing,  were  mercilessly  dragged  downhill;  the  heavy  sleds, 
gathering  momentum,  overtook  the  fleeing  dogs,  and  their 
unfortunate  masters  were  ploughed  head-first  through  the 
snow.  At  the  foot  of  the  steepest  incline  a  tumult  arose  as 
men  and  dogs  struggled  together  in  an  effort  to  free  themselves 
from  overturned  sleds.  Above  the  cursing  in  French  and 
Enghsh — but  not  in  Indian — ^rose  the  howHng  of  the  dogs  as 
lead-loaded  lashes  whistled  through  the  frosty  air.  One  won- 
dered how  such  a  tangle  could  ever  be  unravelled,  but  soon  all 
was  set  straight  again. 

About  eight  o'clock  we  had  our  second  breakfast  and  by 
twelve  we  stopped  again  for  the  noon-day  meal,  both  of  which 
consisted  of  bannock,  pork,  and  tea.  While  we  ate,  the  dogs, 
stiU  harnessed,  lay  curled  up  in  the  snow. 

Again  the  guide  shouted  "  Ma-r-r-che! "  and  again  the  brigade 
moved  forward.  Some  of  the  trains  were  handsomely  har- 
nessed, especially  the  Factor's.  The  loin-cloths  of  the  dogs, 
caUed  tapis,  were  richly  embroidered  and  edged  with  fringe. 
Above  the  collars  projected  pompons  of  broken  colours  and 
clusters  of  streaming  ribbons,  while  beneath  hung  a  number  of 
bells.  All  the  dogs  were  hitched  tandem,  and  every  train 
was  made  up  of  four  units.  Except  the  dogs  of  the  Factor's 
train,  there  were  few  real  "huskies, "  as  Eskimo  dogs  are  called, 
for  most  of  the  brutes  were  the  usual  sharp-nosed,  heavy- 
coated  mongrels  that  in  the  Strong  Woods  Country  go  by  the 
name  of  giddes;  some,  however,  had  been  sired  by  wolves. 

The  track-beater's  snowshoes,  which  were  the  largest  used 
by  any  of  the  brigade,  were  Wood  Cree  "hunting  shoes"  and 
measured  nearly  six  feet  in  length.  The  other  men  wore 
Chipewyan  "tripping  shoes"  about  three  feet  long — ^the  only 
style  of  Canadian  snowshoes  that  are  made  in  "rights  and 
lefts." 


180  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

For  a  number  of  miles  we  passed  through  heavily  timbered 
forest  where  shafts  of  sunlight  threw  patches  of  brilhant  white 
upon  the  woodland's  winter  carpet,  and  where  gentle  breezes 
had  played  fantastically  with  the  falhng  snow,  for  it  was 
heaped  in  all  manner  of  remarkable  forms.  Here  and  there 
long,  soft  festoons  of  white  were  draped  about  groups  of 
trees  where  the  living  stood  interlocked  with  the  dead. 
Among  the  branches  huge  "snow-bosses"  were  seen,  and 
"snow-mushrooms"  of  wondrous  shape  and  bulk  were  perched 
upon  logs  and  stumps.  "Snow-caps"  of  almost  unbelievable 
size  were  mounted  upon  the  smallest  of  trees,  the  slender 
trunks  of  which  seemed  ready  to  break  at  any  moment.  It 
was  all  so  strangely  picturesque  that  it  suggested  an  enchanted 
forest. 

Early  that  afternoon  we  came  upon  an  Indian  lodge  hiding 
in  the  woods,  and  from  within  came  three  little  children.  It 
was  then  fully  twenty  below  zero,  yet  the  little  tots,  wish- 
ing to  watch  the  passing  brigade,  stood  in  the  most  unconcerned 
way,  holding  each  other  by  the  hand,  their  merry  eyes  shining 
from  their  wistful  faces  while  their  bare  legs  and  feet  were 
buried  in  the  snow.  Though  they  wore  nothing  but  Uttle 
blanket  shirts,  what  healthy,  happy  children  they  appeared  to 
be! 

Then  out  upon  a  lake  we  swung  where  the  wind-packed 
snow  made  easy  going.  Here  the  heavy  sleds  slid  along  as  if 
loadless,  and  we  broke  into  a  run.  On  rounding  a  point  we  saw 
a  band  of  woodland  caribou  trot  off  the  lake  and  enter  the 
distant  forest.  By  the  time  we  reached  the  end  of  the  lake, 
and  had  taken  to  the  shelter  of  the  trees,  dusk  weis  creeping 
through  the  eastern  woods  and  the  rabbits  had  come  out  to 
play.  They  were  as  white  as  the  snow  upon  which  they 
ran  helter-skelter  after  one  another.  Forward  and  backward 
they  boimded  across  the  trail  without  apparently  noticing 
the  dogs.    Sometimes  they  passed  within  ten  feet  of  us.    The 


Going  to  the  stage,  he  took  down  his  five-foot  snowshoes,  slipped 
hvi  moccasined  feet  into  the  thongs,  and  with  his  gun  resting  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hemittened  hand,  and  the  sled's  hauling-line  over  his 
shoulder,  strode  off  through  the  vaulted  aisles  between  the  boles  of 
evergreens;  while  through  a  tiny  slit  in  the  wall  of  his  moose-skin 
home  two  loving  eyes  watched  his  stalwart  figure  vanishing  among 
the     .      .      .      See  Chapter  IV 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  181 

woodland  seemed  to  swarm  with  them,  and  no  wonder,  for  it 
was  the  seventh  year,  the  year  of  Northland  game  abmidance, 
when  not  only  rabbits  are  most  nmnerous,  but  also  all  the 
other  dwellers  of  the  wilderness  that  prey  upon  them.  Al- 
ready, however,  the  periodical  plague  had  arrived.  When  I 
stopped  to  adjust  a  snowshoe  thong  I  counted  five  dead  hares 
within  sight;  next  year  starvation  would  be  stalking  the 
forest  creatures. 

CAMPING  IN  THE  SNOW 

While  the  sunset  glow  was  rapidly  fading,  the  brigade  halted 
to  make  camp  for  the  night.  All  were  to  sleep  in  the  open,  for 
dog  brigades  never  carry  tents  but  bivouac  on  the  snow  with 
nothing  but  a  blanket  between  the  sleeper  and  the  Aurora 
Boreahs — though  the  thermometer  may  fall  to  sixty  below 
zero.  Some  of  the  men  moved  off  with  axes  in  their  hands,  and 
the  sound  of  chopping  began  to  echo  through  the  forest.  On 
every  side  big  dry  trees  came  crashing  down.  Then  the  huge 
"long  fires",  driving  darkness  farther  away,  began  to  leap  and 
roar.  Then,  too,  could  be  seen  the  building  of  stages  on  which  to 
place  the  valuable  fur-laden  sleds  out  of  reach  of  the  destructive 
dogs;  the  gathering  of  evergreen  brush;  the  unhitching  of  dogs 
and  the  hanging  up  of  their  harness  in  the  surrounding  trees; 
the  unloading  of  sleds;  the  placing  of  frozen  whitefish  to  thaw 
for  the  dogs;  the  baking  of  bannocks,  the  frying  of  pork,  and  the 
infusing  of  tea.  Then,  in  silence,  the  men  ate  ravenously,  while 
the  hungry  dogs  watched  them. 

When  pipes  had  been  filled  and  hghted  each  driver  took  his 
allotment  of  fish,  called  his  dogs  aside,  and  gave  them  a 
couple  each.  Some  of  the  brutes  bolted  their  food  in  a  few 
gulps  and  rushed  to  seize  the  share  of  others,  but  a  few  blows 
from  the  drivers'  whips  drove  them  back. 

When  the  dogs  had  devoured  their  day's  rations — ^for  they 


182  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

are  fed  only  once  every  twenty-four  hours — their  masters 
sought  out  sheltered  spots  for  them  and  cut  a  few  branches  of 
brush  for  their  beds.  Some  of  the  men  cooked  a  supply  of 
bannock  to  be  eaten  the  following  day.  Others  hung  their 
moccasins,  mittens,  and  leggings  on  little  sticks  before  the 
fires  to  dry.  It  was  an  animated  scene.  The  "long  fires" 
were  huge  structures,  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  in  length,  so  that 
each  man  might  bask  in  the  heat  without  crowding  his 
neighbour.  A  number  stood  with  their  back  to  the  blaze  while 
the  rest-  sat  or  loimged  on  their  blankets  and,  puffing  away  at 
their  pipes,  joined  in  the  conversation  that  before  long  became 
general. 

Just  then  the  dogs  began  to  blow  and  then  to  growl,  as  a 
strange  Indian  strode  out  of  the  gloom  into  the  brilliant 
glare  of  the  fires. 

"  Wat-che!  wat-che?''  (What  cheer,  what  cheer?)  sang  out  the 
men.  The  stranger  replied  in  Cree,  and  then  began  a  lively 
interchange  of  gossip.  The  Indian  was  the  track-beater  of  the 
south-bound  packet  from  the  Far  North  that  was  now  approach- 
ing. All  were  keenly  interested.  The  cracking  of  whips  and 
the  howling  of  dogs  were  heard,  and  a  Httle  later  the  tinkhng  of 
bells.  Then  came  a  train  of  long-legged,  handsomely  har- 
nessed dogs  hauling  a  highly  decorated  carriole  behind  which 
trotted  a  strikingly  dressed  half-breed  dog-driver.  When  the 
train  had  drawn  abreast  of  oiu-  fire  an  elderly  white  man,  who 
proved  to  be  Chief  Factor  Thompson,  of  a  still  more  northerly 
district  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  got  out  from  beneath 
the  carriole  robes,  cheerfully  returned  our  greeting,  and  accepted 
a  seat  on  the  dunnage  beside  Factor  Mackenzie's  fire.  Two 
other  trains  and  two  other  dog-drivers  immediately  followed 
the  arrival  of  the  Chief  Factor,  for  they  were  the  packeteers  in 
charge  of  the  packet.  Now  the  woods  seemed  to  be  full  of 
talking  and  laughing  men  and  snarling,  snapping  dogs.  Twenty- 
two  men  were  now  crowding  round  the  fires,  and  seventy-two 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  183 

dogs  and  eighteen  sleds  were  blocking  the  spaces  between  the 
trees. 

NORTHERN  MAIL  SERVICE 

Chief  Factor  Thompson  was  the  "real  thing,"  and  therefore 
not  at  aU  the  kind  of  Hudson's  Bay  officer  that  one  ever  meets 
in  fiction.  For  instead  of  being  a  big,  burly,  "red-blooded 
brute,"  of  the  "he-man"  type  of  factor — the  kind  that  springs 
from  nowhere  save  the  wild  imaginations  of  the  authors  who 
have  never  Uved  in  the  wilderness  ...  he  was  just  a  real 
man  .  .  .  just  a  fine  type  of  Hudson's  Bay  factor,  who 
was  not  only  brother  to  both  man  and  beast,  but  who  knew 
every  bird  by  its  flight  or  song;  who  loved  children  with  all  his 
heart — flowers,  too — and  whose  kindly  spirit  often  rose  in  song. 
Yes,  he  was  just  a  real  man,  like  some  of  the  men  you  know — ^but 
after  all,  perhaps  he  was  even  finer — ^for  the  wilderness  does 
nothing  to  a  man  save  make  him  healthier  in  body  and  in 
soul;  while  the  cities  are  the  world's  cesspools.  He  was  rather 
a  small,  slender  man,  with  fatherly  eyes  set  in  an  intelligent 
face  that  was  framed  with  gray  hair  and  gray  beard. 

After  the  Chief  Factor  and  his  men  had  been  refreshed  with 
bannock,  pork,  and  tea,  pipes  were  filled  and  hghted  and  for 
a  time  we  talked  of  all  sorts  of  subjects.  Later,  when  we  were 
alone  for  a  httle  while,  I  found  Mr.  Thompson  a  man  richly 
informed  on  northern  travel,  for  he  had  spent  his  whole  life  in 
the  service  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  and  at  one  time  or 
another  had  been  in  charge  of  the  principal  posts  on  Hudson 
Bay,  Great  Slave  Lake,  and  the  Peace,  the  Churchill,  the 
Athabasca,  and  the  Mackenzie  rivers.  Among  other  subjects 
discussed  were  dogs  and  dog-driving;  and  when  I  questioned 
him  as  to  the  loading  of  sleds,  he  answered: 

"UsuaUy,  in  extremely  cold  weather,  the  Company  allots 
dogs  not  more  than  seventy-five  pounds  each,  but  in  milder 
weather  they  can  handily  haul  a  hundred  pounds,  and  toward 


184  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

spring,  when  sleds  slide  easily,  they  often  manage  more  than 
that."  Then  dreamily  pufifing  at  his  pipe  he  added :  "  I  remem- 
ber when  six  dog-trains  of  four  dogs  each  hauled  from  Fort 
Chipewyan  on  Lake  Athabasca  to  Fort  Vermillion  on  the 
Peace  River  loads  that  averaged  six  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
per  sled — ^not  including  the  grub  for  the  men  and  dogs  and  the 
men's  dunnage.  Then,  again,  William  Irving  with  Chief  Factor 
Camsell's  dogs  brought  to  Fort  Simpson  a  load  of  nine  hundred 
pounds.  The  greatest  load  hauled  by  four  dogs  that  I  know 
of  was  brought  to  Fort  Good  Hope  by  Gaudet.  When  it  ar- 
rived it  weighed  a  trifle  over  one  thousand  pounds.  But 
Factor  Gaudet  is  one  of  the  best  dog-drivers  in  the  country." 
Then,  re-settling  himself  more  comfortably  before  the  fire, 
he  continued: 

"And  while  I  think  of  it  we  have  had  some  pretty  fine  dogs 
in  the  service  of  the  Company.  The  most  famous  of  all  were 
certainly  those  belonging  to  my  good  friend  Chief  Factor  Wm. 
Clark.  He  bred  them  from  Scotch  stag  hounds  and  "hus- 
kies"— ^the  latter,  of  course,  he  procured  from  the  Eskimos. 
His  dogs,  however,  showed  more  hoimd  than  husky.  Their 
hair  was  so  short  that  they  had  to  be  blanketed  at  night.  Once 
they  made  a  trip  from  Oak  Point  on  Lake  Manitoba  to  Winni- 
peg, starting  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  stopping  for  a 
second  breakfast  by  the  way,  and  reaching  Winnipeg  by  one 
o'clock  at  noon,  the  distance  being  sixty  miles.  They  were 
splendid  dogs  and  great  pets  of  his.  They  used  to  love  playing 
tricks  and  romping  with  him.  Frequently,  when  nearing  a 
post,  they  would  purposely  dump  him  out  of  his  carriole  and 
leaving  him  behind,  go  on  to  the  post,  where,  of  course,  on  their 
arrival  with  the  empty  sled,  they  were  promptly  sent  back  for 
Mr.  Clark.  Understanding  the  command,  they  would  at  once 
wheel  about  and,  without  a  driver,  return  on  the  full 
gallop  to  get  their  master.  When  coming  upon  him  they  would 
rush  aroimd  and  bark  at  him,  showing  all  the  while  the  greatest 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  lU 

glee  over  the  trick  they  had  played  him.  He  never  used  a  whip 
upon  them.  No  snowshoer  could  be  found  who  was  swift 
enough  to  break  a  trail  for  those  dogs  and  no  horse  ever  over- 
took them.  Once,  while  going  from  Oak  Point  to  Winnipeg, 
Factor  Clark's  train  ran  down  six  wolves,  allowing  him  to  shoot 
the  brutes  as  he  rode  in  his  carriole.  Another  time  they  over- 
hauled and  threw  a  wolf  which  Mr.  Clark  afterward  stunned, 
and  then  bound  its  jaws  together.  When  the  brute  came  to,  it 
foimd  itself  harnessed  in  the  train  in  place  of  one  of  the  dogs, 
and  thus  Chief  Factor  Clark  drove  a  wild  timber-wolf  into  the 
city  of  Winnipeg.'* 

"They  must  have  been  wonderful  dogs,"  remarked  Father 
Jois,  "but  it's  too  bad  they  don't  breed  such  dogs  nowadays." 

" That's  so,"  returned  the  Chief  Factor.  " Twenty  or  thirty 
years  ago  at  each  of  the  big  posts — the  district  depots — they 
used  to  keep  from  forty  to  fifty  dogs,  and  at  the  outposts,  from 
twenty  to  thirty  were  always  on  hand.  At  each  of  the  district 
depots  a  man  was  engaged  as  keeper  of  the  dogs  and  it  was  his 
duty  to  attend  to  their  breeding,  training,  and  feeding." 

"  Speaking  of  feeding,  what  do  you  consider  the  best  food  for 
dogs?"  I  asked. 

"By  all  means  pemmican,"  repUed  the  Chief  Factor,  "and 
give  each  dog  a  pound  a  day.  The  next  best  rations  for  dogs 
come  in  the  following  order:  two  pounds  of  dried  fish,  four 
pounds  of  fresh  deer  meat,  two  rabbits  or  two  ptarmigan,  one 
pound  of  flour  or  meal  mixed  with  two  ounces  of  tallow.  That 
reminds  me  of  the  way  the  old  half-breed  dog-drivers  used  to 
do.  In  such  districts  as  Pelly  and  Swan  River,  where  fish 
and  other  food  for  dogs  was  scarce,  we  had  frequently  to  feed 
both  men  and  dogs  on  rations  of  flour.  Some  of  the  half-breeds 
would  leave  their  ration  of  flour  with  their  family,  and 
count  on  eating  the  dog's  ration  while  on  the  trip  and 
letting  the  poor  brutes  go  hungry,  just  because  the  dogs  be- 
longed to  the  Company.    So  we  put  a  stop  to  that  by  mixing 


186  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

coal  oil  with  the  dog's  rations  and  having  them  baked 
into  cakes  before  the  trip  was  begun.  Such  a  mixture  made  the 
men  sick  when  they  tried  to  eat  it,  but  the  dogs  didn't  seem  to 
mind  it  at  all." 

"Then  kerosene  is  not  included  in  the  regular  rations  the 
Company  supphes  for  its  trippers  and  voyageurs?"  I  ven- 
tured, laughingly. 

"Hardly,  for  in  the  Northland  that  would  be  rather  an 
expensive  condiment."  The  old  gentleman  smiled  as  he  con- 
tinued: "In  outfitting  our  people  for  a  voyage,  we  supply  what 
is  known  as  a  full  ration  for  a  man,  a  half  ration  for  a  woman 
or  a  dog,  and  a  quarter  ration  for  a  child.  For  instance,  we 
give  a  man  eight  pounds  of  fresh  deer  meat  per  day  while  we 
give  a  woman  or  a  dog  only  four  pounds  and  a  child  two  pounds. 
A  man's  ration  of  fish  is  four  pounds  per  day,  of  pemmican  two 
pounds,  of  flour  or  meal  two  poimds,  of  rabbits  or  ptarmigan 
four  of  each,"  said  he,  as  he  knocked  the  ashes  from 
his  pipe.  I  was  afraid  he  was  going  to  turn  in,  so  I  quickly 
asked: 

"Which  is  the  longest  of  the  Company's  packet  routes  at  the 
present  day  .^" 

"That  of  the  Mackenzie  River  packet  from  Edmonton  to 
Fort  Macpherson.  In  winter  it  is  hauled  two  thousand  and 
twelve  miles  by  dog-train;  and  in  summer  it  is  carried  by  the 
Company's  steamers  on  the  Athabasca,  the  Slave,  and  the 
Mackenzie  rivers.  Next  comes  the  Peace  River  packet  from 
Edmonton  to  Hudson's  Hope,  a  distance  of  over  a  thousand 
miles.  In  summer  it  goes  by  steamer,  and  in  winter  by  dog- 
train.  There's  the  York  Factory  packet  from  Winnipeg  to 
Hudson  Bay  by  way  of  Norway  House,  a  distance  of  seven  hun- 
dred miles.  In  winter  it  is  hauled  by  dogs  from  Selkirk  as  far 
as  Oxford  House,  and  from  there  to  York  Factory  by  men  with 
toboggans.  In  summer  it  is  carried  by  canoe  on  Hay  River 
and  by  steamboat  on  Lake  Winnipeg.    Then  there's  the  Liard 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  187 

River  packet  and  the  Reindeer  Lake  packet.  Each  travels 
about  five  hundred  miles  by  dogs  in  winter  and  by  canoe  in 
summer.  The  Moose  Factory  packet  from  Temiscamingue  to 
James  Bay  goes  by  canoe  in  summer,  but  by  men  in  winter. 
All  mails  in  and  out  from  Hudson  Bay  or  James  Bay  to  or  from 
the  next  post  in  the  interior,  are  hauled  by  men.  Dogs  are 
seldom  used  on  those  routes,  on  account  of  the  depth  of  the 
snow  and  the  scarcity  of  dog  feed." 

Though  I  weU  knew  that  packeteers  did  not  carry  firearms,  I 
asked  Chief  Factor  Thompson — just  for  the  sake  of  getting 
the  truth  from  him  and  giving  it  to  the  pubhc: 

"How  does  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  arm  their 
packeteers?" 

"Arm  them.^"  the  Chief  Factor  laughed  outright,  "why,  we 
always  provide  them  with  an  axe." 

"Firearms,  I  mean." 

"Firearms!  Why,  they  aren't  allowed  to  carry  firearms  at 
all.  It's  against  the  rules  and  regulations  of  the  Company. 
In  the  first  place,  packeteers  are  suppHed  with  plenty  of  grub 
for  the  trip;  in  the  next  place,  if  they  had  a  gun  they  might  go 
hunting  £uid  fooling  around  with  it  instead  of  attending  to  their 
business;  and,  moreover,  it  doesn't  matter  whether  the  mail 
travels  two  himdred  or  two  thousand  miles,  there  is  no  occasion 
for  packeteers  to  carry  firearms,  for  there  are  no  highwaymen 
and  no  animals  in  this  country  that  would  make  an  offensive 
attack  upon  them." 

And  in  truth,  in  all  that  wild  brigade  there  were  no  fire- 
arms save  Oo-koo-hoo's  old  muzzle-loader;  but  then  The 
Owl  was  a  himter  by  profession,  and  he  carried  a  gun  only  as  a 
matter  of  business.  Now  for  the  last  twenty-five  years  that  is 
exactly  what  I  have  wanted  to  tell  the  pubKc.  When  one  reads 
a  story,  or  sees  a  play  or  a  moving  picture,  in  which  characters 
bristling  with  firearms  are  set  forth  as  veritable  representatives 
of  life  in  the  Canadian  wilderness,  he  may  rest  assured  that  the 


188  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

work  is  nothing  but  a  travesty  on  life  in  Canada.  Any  author, 
any  illustrator,  any  playwright,  any  scenario  writer,  any  actor 
or  any  director  who  depicts  Canadian  wilderness  Hfe  in  that 
way  is  either  an  ignoramus  or  a  shameless  humbug.  And  to 
add  strength  to  my  statement  I  shall  quote  the  experience  of  a 
gentleman  who  was  the  first  City  Clerk,  Treasurer,  Assessor, 
and  Tax  Collector  of  Dawson  City — ^Mr.  E.  Ward  Smith: 

POLICE  AND   GUNMEN 

"The  Mounted  Pohce  generally  received  word  in  advance 
when  any  particularly  bad  character  was  headed  for  the 
Yukon,  and  in  all  such  cases  he  was  met  when  he  slipped  off  the 
boat.  I  remember  particularly  one  case  of  the  kind,  as  I 
happened  to  be  on  hand  when  the  American  gunman  landed. 
He  was  a  quiet  enough  looking  individual  and  had  no  weapons 
of  any  kind  in  sight,  but  a  close  scrutiny  revealed  the  fact  that 
he  had  a  particularly  evil  eye  in  his  sandy-freckled  face.  One 
of  the  Mounties  picked  him  out  unerringly  and  tapped  him  on 
the  shoulder. 

"  *Gat  Gardiner .^^'  he  asked. 

"*No,'  said  the  newcomer.     *My  name  is  Davidson.' 

***!  happen  to  know  you  as  Gat  Gardiner,'  insisted  the  pohce- 
man.     *Got  any  weapons  on  you.^^' 

"*Leave  go  of  me,'  flared  the  so-called  Davidson,  all  the 
veneer  of  civihty  gone.  *  You  got  nothing  on  me.  Let  go,  I 
sayl' 

"T've  got  something  on  you,'  declared  the  policeman,  haul- 
ing a  revolver  from  the  hip  pocket  of  the  man.  *  Carrying  con- 
cealed weapons  is  against  the  law  on  this  side  the  line.  Back 
on  the  boat,  you,  and  don't  you  dare  put  foot  ashore  or  I'll  have 
you  in  jail.    You  go  back  the  way  you  came.' 

"And  Gardiner  went.  I  saw  him  leaning  over  the  rail  when 
the  boat  started  on  the  return  trip  and  he  shook  his  fist  at  the 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  189 

policeman  on  the  wharf  and  emitted  a  string  of  vile  oaths.  But 
he  never  came  back. 

"When  the  notorious  *Soapy'  Smith  was  killed  at  Skagway, 
Alaska,  his  gang  of  desperadoes  was  promptly  broken  up  and 
word  came  to  Dawson  that  some  of  them  were  headed  for 
the  Canadian  side.  They  were  gathered  in  as  soon  as  they 
crossed  the  line,  denuded  of  weapons,  and  sent  back.  Not  one 
of  the  gang  eluded  the  vigilance  of  the  poKce. 

"The  law  against  carrying  concealed  weapons  was  a  big 
factor  in  keeping  the  peace.  Comparatively  few  men  took 
advantage  of  their  legal  right  to  carry  a  revolver  in  sight.  I 
remember  seeing  an  open  box  in  a  pawnshop  containing  the 
most  amazing  collection  of  weapons  I  had  ever  set  eyes  on — 
revolvers  with  silver  handles,  pistols  of  carved  ivory,  anti- 
quated breech-loaders,  weapons  of  fantastic  design,  and,  prob- 
ably, of  equally  fantastic  history,  strange  implements  of  death 
that  had  come  from  all  climes  and  bespoke  adventures  on  all 
the  seven  seas. 

"  *  Where  did  you  get  the  lot.^^'  I  asked  the  proprietor. 

"  *They  all  sell  their  shooting  irons.  No  use  for  them  here. 
I  get  'em  for  practically  nothing.  Help  yourself  if  you  have 
any  fancy  that  way.  I'll  make  you  a  present  of  anything  you 
want.' 

"So  much  for  the  wild  Yukon  of  the  novehstsl  Instead  of 
lurching  into  the  dance  hall  and  blazing  away  at  the  ceiling, 
picture  the  *old-timer',  the  hardened  miner  of  a  hundred  camps, 
planking  down  his  pistols  on  the  counter  of  the  pawnshop  and 
asking  *How  much.^'    That's  the  truer  picture." 

As  part  of  my  boyhood  education  was  derived  from  the  study 
of  American  illustrated  magazines,  I  was  led  by  those  periodi- 
cals to  believe  that  the  North  American  wilderness  was  in- 
habited by  wild  and  woolly  men  bedecked  with  firearms,  and 
ever  since  I  have  been  on  the  lookout  for  just  such  characters. 
Now  while  I  cannot  speak  for  the  Western  States,  I  can  at  least 


190  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

speak  for  Canada;  and  I  must  now  admit  that,  dm-ing  my  thirty- 
three  years  of  contact  with  wilderness  life,  on  one  occasion- 
but  on  one  only — I  found  that  there  was  justification  for  de- 
scribing the  men  of  the  northern  wilderness  as  carrying  firearms 
for  protection.    But  does  not  the  one  exception  prove  the  rule? 

It  happened  near  Stewart,  on  the  borderline  of  Alaska, 
several  years  ago.  I  encountered  a  prospector  who  wanted  to 
cross  Portland  Canal  from  Alaska  to  Canada,  and  as  I  was 
rowing  over,  I  offered  to  take  him  across.  When,  however,  he 
turned  to  pick  up  his  pack  I  caught  sight  of  something  that 
fairly  made  me  burst  out  laughing;  for  it  was  as  funny  a  sight 
as  though  I  had  witnessed  it  on  Piccadilly  or  Broadway.  At 
first  I  thought  he  was  a  movie  actor  who,  in  some  imaccount- 
able  way,  had  strayed  from  Los  Angeles  and  become  lost  in 
the  northern  wilderness  before  he  had  had  time  to  remove  his 
ridiculous  "make-up";  but  a  moment  later  he  proved  beyond 
doubt  that  he  was  not  an  actor,  for  he  blushed  scarlet  when  he 
observed  that  I  was  focussing  a  regular  Mutt-and-Jeff  dotted- 
line  stare  at  a  revolver  that  himg  from  his  belt,  and  he  faltered: 

"But    .     .     .     Why  the  mirth?" 

"Well,  old  man,"  I  laughed  again,  "for  over  twenty-five 
years  I  have  been  roaming  the  Canadian  wilderness  from  the 
borderhne  of  Maine  right  up  here  to  Alaska,  and  in  all  that 
time — ^with  the  exception  of  the  Constables  of  the  North- West 
Mounted  Police — ^you  are  the  first  man,  woman,  or  child,  I 
have  seen  carrying  a  revolver.  And  I  swear,  old  dear,  that 
that's  the  truth.    So  now,  do  you  wonder  that  I  laugh?" 

RECORD  TRAVELLING 

But  to  return  to  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company's  packet  sys- 
tem, I  asked  Chief  Factor  Thompson: 

"Which  is  the  more  important,  the  summer  or  the  winter 
maU?" 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  191 

"Oh,  the  winter;  for,  when  inward  bound,  it  bears  the 
Commissioner's  instructions  to  the  district  chief  factors;  and, 
when  outward  bound,  it  contains  information  regarding  the 
results  and  the  progress  of  the  fur-trade,  and  orders  for  addi- 
tional supplies.** 

"How  many  miles  a  day  do  the  packeteers  average  on  their 
winter  trips?" 

"Well,"  replied  the  Chief  Factor,  "I  think  the  rate  of  speed 
maintained  by  our  packeteers  is  remarkable;  especially  when 
one  considers  the  roughness  of  the  country,  the  hardships  of 
winter  travel,  the  fact  that  the  men  must  make  their  bread, 
cook  their  meals,  care  for  their  dogs,  and,  when  on  the  trail, 
cannot  even  quench  their  thirst  without  halting  to  build  a  fire 
and  melt  snow.  Yet  the  packeteers  of  the  Mackenzie  River 
mail  cover  their  two  thousand  miles  on  snowshoes  at  an  average 
rate  of  twenty-seven  and  a  half  miles  a  day,  including  all 
stoppages." 

"That  is  certainly  splendid  travelling.  Some  of  the  packe- 
teers, I  should  judge,  have  made  great  records;  haven't  they.^" 

"Yes,  that's  true,"  acknowledged  the  trader,  "the  packe- 
teers do  make  great  eflForts  to  break  records  between  posts. 
But,  though  they  may  have  succeeded  in  cutting  down  the 
time,  their  achievement  is  never  mentioned  on  the  way-bill, 
nor  does  it  affect  the  time  allowed  for  the  completion  of  the 
trip;  for,  though  the  mail  be  brought  in  ahead  of  time,  it  is 
never  handed  over  to  the  relay  until  the  appointed  hour  has 
struck.  Otherwise,  the  whole  system  would  be  thrown  out  of 
gear.  Exceptionally  fast  runs  are  not  shown  upon  the  way- 
bills, because  they  would  eventually  affect  the  average  time 
allowed  for  the  trip;  and  in  stormy  weather  that  would  be 
hard  upon  the  packeteers.  The  time  allowed  for  the  transmis- 
sion of  a  packet  is  calculated  on  a  ten-years'  average.  No  ex- 
cuse for  delay,  except  death,  is  tolerated.  At  each  post  on 
certain  fixed  dates  relays  of  men  and  dogs  are  kept  in  readiness 


192  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

to  forward  the  mail  without  delay.  A  through  way-bill  ac- 
companies every  packet  from  point  of  departure  to  point  of 
dehvery.  At  each  post  along  the  route  the  time  of  arrival 
and  the  time  of  departure  of  the  mail  must  be  entered  upon 
the  way-bill,  as  well  as  the  names  of  the  packeteers  and  of  the 
officers  in  charge." 

"I  understand  that  packets  contain  not  only  the  despatches 
of  the  Company,  but  the  private  mail  of  the  employees,  that 
of  missionaries  of  all  denominations,  that  of  chance  'explor- 
ers' or  travellers,  and  even  that  of  opposition  fur-traders.  Is 
that  a  fact?" 

"Yes,  sir,  and  moreover,  no  charge  is  made  by  the  Company." 

"Do  the  Company's  officers  experience  much  trouble  in 
procuring  men  to  act  as  packeteers?" 

"Oh,  no;  none  whatever.  As  a  rule,  when  men  enter  the 
Company's  service,  they  stipulate  that  they  shall  be  given  a 
place  on  the  packet;  for  that  affords  them  an  opportunity  to 
pay  a  visit  to  the  next  post,  and  to  join  in  the  dance  which  is 
always  held  on  the  arrival  of  the  mail.  Trippers  consider 
themselves  greatly  honoured  on  being  given  charge  of  a  packet; 
for  it  means  that  they  are  held  to  be  trustworthy,  and  thor- 
oughly famihar  with  the  topography  of  the  district." 

"Before  the  advent  of  the  railroad  and  the  steamboat, 
which  was  the  longest  of  the  Company's  packet  routes?" 

"By  all  odds  that  of  the  Yukon  packet.  It  made  the  journey 
from  Montreal  to  Fort  Yukon,  which  was  then  situated  at  the 
junction  of  the  Porcupine  and  Yukon  rivers.  It  was  routed 
by  way  of  the  Ottawa  River,  Lake  Hiu-on,  Lake  Superior, 
Lake  of  the  Woods,  Lake  Winnipeg,  the  Athabasca  River, 
the  Slave  River,  and  the  Mackenzie  River.  It  was  forwarded 
in  summer  by  canoe,  in  winter  by  dog-train,  for  the  enormous 
distance  of  four  thousand  five  hundred  miles.  And  let  me  tell 
you,  it  is  to-day,  as  it  was  two  hundred  years  ago,  the  pride 
of  the  Company's  people  that  not  one  packet  was  ever  lost 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  193 

beyond  recovery.  Packeteers  have  been  drowned,  frozen, 
burned,  shot,  smothered,  and  even  eaten;  but  the  packet  has 
always  reached  its  destination  somehow." 

BEAR  HOLDS   UP  MAIL 

A  sudden  burst  of  laughter  from  the  men  at  a  neighbouring 
fire  attracted  the  attention  of  Chief  Factor  Thompson,  and 
glancing  over,  he  remarked  to  me: 

"Telling  yams,  eh  I    Let's  go  over  and  Hsten." 

Twelve  or  fifteen  men  were  crowded  round  that  fire — ^in- 
cluding Factor  Mackenzie,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wilson,  Father  Jois, 
and  Oo-koo-hoo — and  they  were  now  coaxing  "Old  Billy 
Brass"  to  tell  the  next  story.  He  was  a  wiry  little  white  man 
of  about  sixty  who  had  seen  much  service  in  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company.  He  hesitated.  They  clamoured  again,  and  he 
began: 

"But  talkin'  'bout  bears  reminds  me  of  a  little  affair  I  once 
had  on  the  Peace  River,"  said  the  old  man,  glancing  slyly  from 
the  comer  of  his  eye  to  see  what  effect  his  statement  made 
upon  his  campfire  companions.  Billy  was  sitting  cross-legged 
upon  his  caribou  robe;  and,  as  he  turned  the  browning  bannocks 
before  the  fire,  he  continued: 

"Well,  as  I  was  sayin',  me  an'  Old-pot-head's  son  once  had 
a  go  with  a  great  big  black  bear  away  up  on  the  Peace  River. 
But,  don't  you  forget  it,  Billy  Brass  didn't  lose  the  packet." 

"Come,  Billy,  tell  us  aU  about  it,"  coaxed  the  Chief  Factor, 
well  knowing  that  if  he  were  once  started  there  would  be  on  his 
part  httle  need  of  urging  in  order  to  extract  from  the  old  tripper 
all  he  knew,  or  could  invent  to  suit  the  occasion. 

"Well,  gentlemen,  if  you  ain't  too  sleepy,  an'  if  some  o' 
you  boys'll  watch  the  bannock,  I  don't  mind  tellin',"  rephed 
Billy  as  he  leaned  toward  the  fire,  picked  up  a  red-hot  coal, 
and  palmed  it  into  his  pipe. 


194  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

"But  I  can't  give  a  funny  bear  story,  the  same  as  you've 
been  tellin',  because  all  my  experiences  with  bears  have  been 
mighty  serious.  However,  I'll  try  and  tell  you  'bout  me  an 
Old-pot-head's  son;  an'  to  my  mind  it's  the  most  serious  of  'em 
aU. 

"As  I  was  sayin',  we  was  in  charge  of  the  Peace  River 
packet;  an'  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  charm  Father  La  Mille 
blessed  for  me  at  Fort  Good  Hope,  I  don't  know  's  I'd  be  here 
to  tell  about  it. 

"Anyway,  me  an'  Old-pot-head's  son  was  carryin'  the 
packet  and  headin'  for  Hudson's  Hope.  It  was  the  fall  packet, 
an' — as  winter  was  just  about  due — ^we  was  hustlin'  'long  for 
all  we  was  worth,  an'  jabbin'  holes  in  the  river  with  our  paddles 
as  fast  as  we  could,  in  fear  o'  the  freeze  up 

"As  bad  luck  would  have  it,  that  very  night  the  ice  over- 
took us,  an'  we  had  to  leave  the  canoe  ashore  an'  finish  the 
voyage  afoot.  Lucky  for  us,  we  was  only  about  three-days' 
travel  from  the  Fort,  so  we  leaves  our  axe  an'  whatever  we 
don't  pgu'ticular  need  with  the  canoe. 

"Mile  after  mile  we  walks  along  the  river  bank;  an'  as  we 
don't  have  no  extra  moccasins,  our  bare  skin  was  soon  upon  the 
sand.  What  with  havin'  our  duds  torn  by  bushes,  an'  our 
fallin'  in  the  mud  once  or  twice,  and  several  times  a-wadin' 
creeks,  we  was  a  pretty  sight  when  we  stops  to  camp  that 
night.  When  the  sun  went  down,  we  was  so  tired  that  we  just 
stopped  dead  in  our  tracks.  We  had  been  packin'  our  blank- 
ets, our  grub,  an'  cookin'  gear  to  say  nothin'  o'  the  packet;  so, 
of  course,  we  didn't  give  much  thought  to  the  campin'  ground. 
But  after  supper  I  looks  round  an'  sees  that  we'd  made  our 
fire  down  in  a  little  hollow,  an'  that  the  place  was  bare  o'  trees 
'ception  three  that  stood  in  a  row  'bout  four  lengths  of  a  three- 
fathom  canoe  from  our  fire.  The  middle  one  was  a  birch  with 
a  long  bare  trunk,  an'  on  each  side  stood  a  pine.  Now,  I 
want  you  gentlemen  to  pay  perticler  'tention  to  just  how  they 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  195 

stood;  for  them  three  trees  is  goin'  to  do  a  mighty  lot  o'  fig- 
gerin'  in  this  here  story. 

"As  I  was  sayin',  there  was  two  pines  with  a  birch  in  between, 
an'  all  standin'  in  a  row,  with  the  upper  branches  o'  pines 
nmnin'  square  in  among  the  branches  o'  the  birch.  'Bout 
half  ways  between  the  birch  and  the  east  pine,  but  a  trifle  off 
the  line,  was  a  pool  o'  water.  Before  I  turns  in  for  the  night, 
I  takes  the  packet  an'  sticks  it  on  the  end  of  a  long  pole,  an' 
shoves  it  up  against  the  birch  tree,  for  fear  o'  the  fire  spreadin' 
an'  burnin'  up  the  mail. 

"Me  an'  Old-pot-head's  son  turns  in  an'  sleeps  as  sound  as 
any  trippers  could.  Some  time  in  the  night  I  wakes  up  with 
a  mighty  start  that  almost  busts  me  heart.  Somethin'  was 
mauhn'  me.  So,  with  me  head  still  under  the  blanket,  for  I 
dassn't  peep  out,  I  sings  out  to  the  Injun  an'  asks  him  what  in 
creation  he's  kickin'  me  for;  an'  if  he  couldn't  wake  me  with- 
out killin'  me.  Old-pot-head's  son  yells  back  that  he  hasn't 
touched  me.  Then  you  bet  I  was  scared;  for  the  thing  hauls 
off  agen  an'  gives  me  a  clout  that  knocks  the  wind  plum'  out  o' 
me. 

"Just  then  I  heard  Old-pot-head's  son  shout,  *Keep  still, 
Bill,  it's  a  big  black  bear.'  I  grabs  the  edges  o'  me  blanket  an' 
pulls  'em  in  under  me  so  hard  I  thinks  I've  bust  it.  But  the 
bear  keeps  on  maulin'  me,  an'  givin'  me  such  hard  swats  that 
I  began  to  fear  it'd  cave  in  me  ribs." 

"But,  Billy,  why  didn't  you  shoot  it.^"  asked  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Wilson. 

"Shoot?  Why,  your  reverence,  don't  you  know,  packeteers 
never  carries  a  gun.^"  the  old  man  exclaimed  with  disgust,  and 
then  continued  his  story : 

"Not  content  with  that,  the  brute  starts  to  roll  me  over  an' 
over.  An'  all  the  time  I'm  doin'  me  best  to  play  dead.  Now 
you  needn't  laff.  I'd  like  to  see  any  o'  youse  pretendin'  you 
was  dead  while  a  big  bear  was  poundin'  you  that  hard  that  you 


196  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

begin  to  beKeve  you  ain't  shammin'.  An'  when  that  ugly  brute 
hauls  off  an'  hits  me  agen,  I  decides  then  an'  there  that  there's 
no  occasion  to  sham  it.  But  just  as  soon  as  I  makes  up  my 
mind  I'm  dead,  the  bear  leaves  me;  an'  when  I  can  no  longer 
hear  him  breathin',  I  peeps  out  of  a  tiny  little  hole,  and  sees  the 
big  brute  mauhn'  me  old  friend  the  Injun.  Then  I  takes  an- 
other peep  roun',  an'  don't  see  no  escape  'cept  by  way  o'  them 
three  trees,  so  I  just  jumps  up,  an'  hghts  out  like  greased 
lightnin'  for  the  nearest  tree.  After  me  comes  the  bear 
gallopin'.  I  guess  that  was  the  quickest  runnin'  I  ever 
done  in  all  me  life.  I  just  managed  to  chmb  into  the  lower 
branches  o'  the  west  pine  as  the  bear  struck  the  trunk 
below  me. 

"When  I  stops  for  breath  in  the  upper  branches,  I  sees  the 
old  bear  canterin'  back  agen  to  have  another  go  with  me  pard- 
ner. 

"Just  as  soon  as  I  was  safe,  the  whole  performance  struck  me 
as  bein'  pretty  funny,  an'  I  couldn't  help  roarin'  out  and  a- 
laffin'  when  I  saw  the  beast  maulin'  Old-pot-head's  son,  an' 
him  tryin'  for  all  he  was  worth  to  play  dead. 

"Thinks  I,  I'll  make  me  old  friend  laff.  So  I  starts  in  to 
guy  him,  an'  he  begins  to  snicker,  an'  that  makes  the  bear  mad, 
an'  he  begins  to  roll  the  Injun.  Then,  you  bet,  I  couldn't 
make  him  laff  no  more;  for,  what  with  shammin'  dead,  an'  bein' 
frightened  to  death  into  the  bargain,  I  don't  think  there  was 
much  laff  left  in  him. 

"You  know  how  bears  will  act  when  they  sometimes  comes 
across  a  handy  log.^  Well,  that's  just  what  the  beast  was  doin' 
with  Old-pot-head's  son — ^it  was  rolhn'  him  over  an'  over.  The 
very  next  second  it  rolls  his  feet  into  the  fire.  Down  the  tree 
I  shd,  Hke  snow  down  a  mountain,  an'  stood  at  the  foot  of  it 
an'  pelted  the  bear  with  stones.  The  Injun's  blanket  began  to 
smoke.  It  was  no  laffin'  matter,  for  I  knowed  if  I  didn't  drive 
the  brute  off  in  a  jiffy  Old-pot-head's  son  would  be  a  comin' 


j~e  c 


'^  c  o  H        S  g 


cc  _^."r*        '^ 


6C    ^     ^ 


•4^  '> 
^  "^j 


<w 


I 

CO 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  197 

out  of  his  trance  mighty  sudden  an'  that  meant  a  catch-as- 
catch-can  with  a  great,  big,  crazy  black  bear. 

**As  good  luck  would  have  it,  the  next  time  I  threw  a  stone, 
it  landed  on  the  tip  of  the  bear's  snout,  an'  with  a  snarl  he 
comes  for  me.  I  waits  as  long  as  I  dares,  then  up  the  tree  I 
skips,  with  the  brute  follerin'  me.  About  half  ways  up  I 
thinks  I  hears  a  human  bein'  laflfin'  in  the  east  pine.  So  I  looks 
over,  an'  sure  enuff,  I  sees  me  old  pardner  settin'  on  a  limb  an' 
fairly  roarin'.  All  the  same,  I  was  feelin'  mighty  squeemish,  for 
the  bear  was  comin'  up  Kckety  sphnter  after  me. 

"Just  then  I  spies  a  good  stout  branch  that  reaches  out  close 
against  a  big  limb  of  the  birch,  an'  I  crawls  over.  As  the  bear 
follers  me,  I  shdes  down  the  trunk  o'  the  birch,  an'  hghts  out 
for  the  east  pine  where  me  pardner  was  doin'  the  laflfin'.  On 
its  way  down  the  bear  rammed  itself  right  smack  against  the 
mail-bag;  and  when  the  beast  struck  ground,  it  smelt  the  man 
smell  on  the  packet,  an'  began  to  gnaw  it. 

"Now  me  an'  Old-pot-head's  son  knowed  well  enuff  we 
had  to  save  the  mail-sack,  so  I  slips  down  the  east  pine  a  ways, 
an'  breaks  off  dead  branches,  an'  pelts  them  at  the  bear  while 
the  Injun  crosses  over  into  the  top  o'  the  west  pine.  Then  we 
both  at  once  shdes  down  as  low  as  we  dares,  an'  I  begins  to  lamm 
the  brute  with  a  shower  o'  sticks.  Up  the  tree  it  comes  for 
me,  while  me  pardner  shps  down,  grabs  the  mail-sack,  an'  sails 
up  the  west  pine  again. 

"That  was  a  mighty  clever  move,  thinks  I,  but  a  bag  is  an 
orkad  thing  to  portage  when  you're  meanderin'  up  an'  down 
a  tree  with  a  bear  after  you.  But  the  tump-line  was  on  it, 
just  as  we  carried  it  the  day  before,  so  it  wasn't  as  bad  as  it 
might  'a'  been. 

"Well,  when  I  went  up  the  east  pine,  the  bear  follered,  an', 
as  there  wasn't  any  too  much  room  between  me  an'  the  bear, 
I  crosses  over  into  the  birch  an'  shdes  down  its  shppery  trunk 
as  tho'  it  was  greased.    I  hits  the  ground  a  httle  harder  than 


198  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

I  wanted  to,  but  didn't  waste  no  time  in  lightin'  out  for  the 
west  pine,  where  the  Injun  was  restin' ;  an'  all  the  time  the  bear 
was  tryin'  to  grab  me  coat-tails. 

"  It  was  just  a  case  of  up  to  the  west  pine,  cross  over  and  down 
the  birch;  then  up  the  east  pine,  cross  over  an'  down  the  birch; 
then  up  the  west  pine,  cross  over  an'  down  the  birch,  till  we  got 
so  dizzy  we  could  a  hardly  keep  from  fallin'.  If  you  could 
just  'a'  seen  the  way  we  tore  roun'  through  them  trees,  I'll  bet 
you  would  'a'  done  a  heap  o'  laflfin'. 

"The  bear  was  mighty  spry  in  goin'  up,  but  when  it  came  to 
goin'  down  he'd  just  do  the  drop-an'-clutch,  drop-an'-clutch 
act.  That's  just  where  me  an'  me  pardner  had  the  advantage 
on  the  brute;  for  we  just  swung  our  arms  an'  legs  roun'  that 
birch  an'  did  the  drop  act,  too;  but,  somehow,  we  hadn't  time 
to  do  the  clutch,  so  our  coat-tails  got  badly  crushed  every  time 
we  landed. 

"It  was  a  kind  of  go-as-you-please  until  about  the  tenth 
roun',  when  I  accidentally  drops  the  mail-bag  on  the  bear's 
head,  aa'  that  makes  him  boihn'  mad;  so  he  lights  out  after  us 
as  tho'  he  had  swallered  a  hornet's  nest. 

"Then  away  we  goes  up  an'  down,  up  an'  down,  an'  roun' 
an'  roun'  that  perpendicular  race  track,  imtil  we  made  such  a 
blur  in  the  scen'ry  that  any  fool  with  half  an  eye  an'  standin'  half 
a  mile  away  could  'a'  seen  a  great  big  figger  eight  layin'  on  its 
side  in  the  middle  o'  the  landscape.  We  took  turns  at  carryin' 
the  packet,  but  sometimes  I  noticed  Old-pot-head's  son  was 
havin'  a  good  deal  of  trouble  with  it.  It  didn't  seem  to  bother 
him  much  when  he  was  cHmbin'  up;  for  he  just  swung  it  on  his 
back  with  the  loop  o'  the  tump-line  over  his  head,  an'  so  he  had 
his  hands  free.  But  it  was  when  he  was  comin'  down  the 
shppery  birch  that  the  weight  of  the  bag  made  him  rather  more 
rapid  than  he  wanted  to  be;  an'  so,  when  he  an'  the  bag  struck 
groun',  they  nearly  always  bounced  apart;  an'  if  the  Injun 
failed  to  get  his  feet  in  time  to  ketch  the  sack  on  the  first  bounce, 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  199 

I  ketched  it  on  the  second  bounce  as  I  glode  by.    So  between 
the  two  of  us  we  managed  to  hang  on  to  the  packet. 

"By-an'-by,  we  was  gettin'  terribly  tuckered  out.  It  was  a 
good  thing  for  us  that  the  bear  was  gettin'  winded  an'  dizzy 
as  well;  because,  at  about  the  sixty-seventh  roun',  the  brute 
had  no  sooner  gone  down  the  birch  than  he  bounded  up  agen 
just  when  Old-pot-head's  son  was  a-climbin'  thro'  the  upper 
branches  o'  the  birch.  So  he  shps  over  into  the  top  o'  the 
east  pine,  while  I  stays  in  the  top  o'  the  west  pine,  an'  the  bear 
sits  down  in  a  upper  crotch  o'  the  birch. 

"Well,  we  puts  in  a  good  many  heats  of  anywhere  from 
twenty-five  to  seventy-five  laps  roun'  that  track  by  the  time 
daylight  comes,  an'  sunrise  finds  us  all  ketching  our  wind  in 
the  upper  branches.  I  noticed  that  whenever  the  brute  wanted 
to  stop  the  whirhgig  it  always  climbed  up  the  birch  just  in  time 
to  separate  me  an'  me  pardner;  an'  there  we  would  sit,  me  in 
the  west  pine,  me  pardner  in  the  east  pine,  an'  the  black  In-ute 
right  in  between. 

"About  breakfast  time  me  an'  the  Injun  was  feelin'  mighty 
himgry.  There  we  sat  cussin'  our  luck  an'  castin'  longin' 
glances  down  at  the  grub  bag.  By  the  time  I'd  caught  me 
wind  a  great  idea  strikes  me.  Durin'  the  next  heat  I  would 
rush  out.  So  I  sings  out  my  intentions  to  me  pardner;  an'  he 
says  he  thinks  we  can  do  it.  So  while  he  was  carryin'  Her 
Majesty's  mail  I  was  to  try  an'  grab  the  grub  bag. 

"We  got  ready,  an'  dropped  down  them  pines  so  fast  that 
we  both  hits  groun'  before  the  bear  knows  what's  doin'.  Then 
I  leaves  that  tree  like  as  if  all  the  animals  in  the  woods  was  after 
me.  I  got  on  so  much  speed  that  by  the  time  I  grabs  the  grub 
bag  I  was  goin'  so  fast  that  I  couldn't  turn  roun'  without 
slackin'  down.  That's  where  I  loses  a  terrible  amount  o'  time, 
an'  I  was  beginnin'  to  think  it  was  all  up  with  me.  By  the  time 
I  got  headed  roun'  agen  for  the  tree,  I  sees  that  the  bear  is 
comin'  down  with  his  back  to  me.    When  he  hits  groun'  he  sees 


200  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

the  Injun  dancin'  roun'  the  foot  o'  the  west  pine;  so  he 
makes  for  the  redskin,  an*  chases  him  up  while  I  chmbs  the 
east  pine. 

"Then  we  all  went  roun'  an'  roun'  for  maybe  fifty  laps,  an' 
the  way  we  wore  the  bark  off  them  trees  an'  trod  down  the 
grass  between  'em  was  a  caution.  By-an'-by  the  bear  gets  so 
dizzy  that  he  bucks  up  the  birch  agen,  an'  sure  enuff  that  stops 
the  performance. 

"I  didn't  need  any  breakfast  bell  to  remind  me  to  open  the 
grub  bag.  I  just  reaches  in  an'  pulls  out  some  busted  bannock 
an'  throws  a  chunk  over  to  Old-pot-head's  son,  an'  without  even 
sayin'  grace,  we  starts  in.  Every  little  while  I'd  toss  another 
chunk  of  bread  over  to  me  pardner  an'  just  out  o'  sheer  spite 
I'd  chuck  it  so  that  it  would  go  sailin'  thro'  the  air  right  in 
front  o'  the  bear's  snout.  That  makes  him  mad.  So  he  tried 
to  catch  the  stuif  as  it  flies  by;  but  I  just  puts  on  a  httle  more 
curve,  an'  that  makes  him  madder  still,  an'  he  ups  an'  comes  for 
me. 

"Then  we  all  knocks  off  breakfast  an'  goes  for  another 
canter.  But  it  don't  do  no  good,  'ceptin'  that  we  all  gets  puffed 
out  agen.  After  a  bit,  the  bear  stops  to  ketch  his  breath,  an' 
then  me  an'  me  pardner  goes  on  with  our  breakfast. 

"With  the  bear  exercisin'  us  the  way  he  did,  we  had  to  take 
our  breakfast  in  a  good  many  courses.  That  makes  it  so  long 
drawn  out  that  we  gets  mighty  thirsty.  The  Injun  asks  me  if 
the  cups  is  in  the  grub  bag.  I  puts  me  ban'  in  an'  feels,  but 
they  ain't  there.  Then  I  remembers  that  we  left  them  down 
by  the  fire.  We  didn't  either  of  us  care  to  risk  snakin'  a  cup, 
so  I  tells  me  pardner  that  the  next  time  we  goes  roun'  we'd  best 
try  an'  grab  a  handful  o'  water.  We  didn't  have  long  to  wait, 
for  the  bear  soon  gets  another  move  on;  an'  then  away  we  all 
goes  sailin'  roun'  agen.  Every  time  me  an'  the  Injun  canters 
past  the  pool,  we  just  makes  a  sudden  dip  an'  grabs  up  a  hand- 
ful o'  water  an'  throws  it  in. 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  201 

"  It  took  so  much  exercise  to  get  so  little  water  that  I  thought 
Vd  die  of  thirst  while  I  was  tryin'  to  drink  me  fill.  When  the 
bear  caught  on  to  what  we  was  doin',  it  just  made  him  madder 
an*  madder;  an'  he  hghts  out  after  us  at  such  a  breathless  chp 
that  we  had  to  fairly  gallop  up  them  pines,  an'  slide  down  the 
birch  faster  than  ever.  It  wasn't  long  before  nearly  every 
button  was  wore  off,  an'  our  clothes  was  so  ripped  up  an'  torn 
down  that  I'd  blush  every  time  I'd  ketch  the  bear  lookin'  at  me. 
An'  every  time  we  ran  'long  the  groun'  from  one  tree  to  another, 
me  an'  me  pardner  had  to  use  both  hands  on  our  garments  in 
order  to  keep  up  oiu: — er — respectabihty.  However,  the  bear 
didn't  have  the  laff  on  us  altogether,  for  he  had  gone  up  an' 
down  them  trees  so  often  an'  so  fast  that  he  had  worn  all  the 
hair  off  his  stomach. 

"After  a  while  we  all  gets  tuckered  out  agen;  an'  while 
we  rests  in  the  trees  me  an'  me  pardner  talks  about  the  weather, 
lettin'  on  that  there  ain't  no  bear  anywheres  nigh.  So  the  time 
passed.  As  we  didn't  recollect  just  how  much  grub  we  had  at 
the  start,  or  how  much  water  there  was  in  the  pool  first  off,  we 
couldn't  for  the  fife  of  us  reckon  just  how  long  we'd  been  there. 
Neither  me  nor  Old-pot-head's  son  would  care  to  take  om*  oaths 
whether  we'd  been  there  a  night  an'  half  a  day,  or  half  a  dozen 
nights  an'  days;  the  night  time  an'  the  day  time  was  so  mixed  up 
together  that  we  hadn't  time  to  separate  'em.  We  were  sure, 
tho',  that  our  grub  was  givin'  out,  the  water  was  dryin'  up,  an' 
death  was  get  tin'  good  an'  ready  for  us. 

**  We  was  in  such  a  terrible  tight  place  that  I  begins  to  think 
o'  takin'  off  me  shirt  an'  flyin'  it  from  the  top  o'  the  tallest  pine 
as  a  signal  o'  distress;  for  we  was  worse  off  than  if  we'd  been 
shipwrecked.  Talk  about  bein'  cast  adrift  on  a  raft!  Why,  it 
wasn't  in  it  with  bein'  fixed  the  way  we  was.  We  just  stayed 
in  one  spot  with  no  chance  of  ever  driftin'  to'rds  help.  As 
long  as  the  bear  kept  tab  on  us  there  wasn't  no  sign  of  our  ever 
gettin'  a  wink  o'  sleep.    And  more,  besides  starvin'  to  death, 


202  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

we  had  to  face  bein'  frozen;  for  our  clothes  was  all  wore  ofif, 
an'  winter  was  comin'  on  mighty  fast. 

"At  last,  when  me  an'  Old-pot-head's  son  had  about  given 
up  hope,  an'  was  just  pickin'  out  which  would  be  the  easiest 
death,  what  should  we  see  but  somethin'  bobbin'  in  an'  out 
among  the  bushes.  Say,  it  was  another  bear!  When  it  comes 
a  little  closer,  we  makes  out  it  was  a  httle  lady  bear.  No  sooner 
does  our  old  stern-chaser  spy  her  than  he  sHdes  down  to  the 
groun',  an'  risin'  up  on  his  hind  legs,  throws  out  his  chest,  an' 
cocks  his  eye  at  her,  for  all  the  world  like  a  man  when  he  sees 
a  pretty  girl  comin'  his  way.  But  when  her  dainty  little  lady- 
ship ketches  sight  of  his  bald-headed  stomach,  she  just  tosses 
up  her  nose  with  disgust,  an'  wheels  roun'  an'  makes  for  the 
tall  timbers  with  our  affectionate  friend  limpin'  the  best  he 
can  after  her. 

**An'  that's  the  last  we  sees  o'  the  bear  that  tried  to  hold 
up  the  Company's  packet." 

After  the  laughter  had  died  down,  Chief  Factor  Thompson 
yawned: 

"Well,  gentlemen,  it's  getting  on.  I  must  be  turning  in 
or  my  men  will  be  late  in  getting  under  way  in  the  morning." 

GOD  AND  THE  WIIJD  MEN 

Drowsiness  had  indeed  overtaken  the  camp.  But  now  I 
must  digress  a  moment  to  tell  you  something  that  the  public — 
at  least  the  public  that  has  derived  its  knowledge  of  northern 
wilderness  life  from  fiction — may  find  it  hard  to  believe.  And 
this  is  what  I  want  to  say:  that  every  one  in  that  whole  brigade 
of  wild  men  of  the  wilderness,  from  the  lowest  dog-driver  right 
up  to  the  Chief  Factor — ^when  each  had  fixed  his  bed  in  readi- 
ness for  the  night — knelt  down,  and  with  bowed  head,  said  his 
evening  prayer  to  The  Master  of  Life.  Moreover,  the  fact  that 
two  clergymen  were  present  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it, 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  203 

for  the  "barbarians"  of  the  forest  would  have  done  just  the 
same  had  no  priest  been  there — just  as  I  have  seen  them  do 
scores  and  scores  of  times.  In  fact,  in  some  sections  of  the 
forest  the  native  wilderness  man — ^red,  white,  or  half-breed — 
who  does  not,  is  not  the  rule,  but  the  exception.  Then,  too — 
unless  one's  ears  are  closed  to  such  sounds — one  may  oc- 
casionally hear  the  voyageurs  of  the  "North  canoe"  and  the 
"York  boat"  brigades,  while  straining  on  the  tracking  line, 
singing,  among  other  hymns: 

Onward,  Christian  soldiers, 

Marching  as  to  war, 
With  the  Cross  of  Jesus, 

Groing  on  before. 

And,  furthermore,  I  wonder  if  the  fiction-reading  public  will 
beheve  that  the  majority  of  the  men  in  the  fur  brigades  always 
partake  of  the  holy  sacrament  before  departing  upon  their 
voyages?  Nevertheless,  it  is  the  truth — though  of  course 
truth  does  not  agree  with  the  orgies  of  gun-play  that  spring 
from  the  weird  imaginations  of  the  stay-at-home  authors,  who, 
in  their  wild  fancy,  people  the  wilderness  with  characters  from 
the  putrescence  of  civilization.  It  is  time  these  authors  were 
enhghtened,  for  a  man,  native  to  the  wilderness,  is  a  better 
man  .  .  .  more  honest,  more  chivalrous,  more  generous, 
and — at  heart,  though  he  talks  less  about  it — ^more  God- 
respecting  .  .  .  than  the  man  born  in  the  city.  That  is 
something  the  pubhc  should  never  forget;  for  if  the  pubUc  re- 
members that,  then  the  authors  of  wilderness  stories  will 
soon  have  to  change  their  discordant  tune. 

Yes,  it  is  true,  every  one  of  those  wild  men  said  his  evening 
prayer  and  then,  with  his  blanket  wrapped  about  him,  lay  down 
upon  his  thick,  springy  mattress  of  fir-brush,  with  his  feet 
toward  the  fire,  and  slumbered  as  only  a  decent,  hard-working 


204  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

man  can.  Out  among  the  dancing  shadows  that  flitted 
among  the  snow-mantled  bushes  and  heavily  laden  trees  a 
hundred  and  fifty  eyes  glared  in  the  brooding  darkness — as 
though  all  the  wolves  in  the  forest  were  gathering  there.  Later, 
when  the  sound  of  heavy  breathing  was  heard  round  the  fires, 
a  fierce,  wolfish-looking  dog,  bolder  than  the  rest,  left  its  snowy 
bed  to  hunt  for  more  sheltered  quarters.  There  was  a  whine, 
a  snarl,  then  the  sound  of  clashing  teeth.  In  a  moment  every 
dog  leaped  up  with  bristHng  hair.  Instantly  bedlam  reigned. 
Over  seventy  dogs  waged  the  wildest  kind  of  war  and  the  dis- 
tant woods  reechoed  the  horrible  din.  A  dozen  blanketed 
mounds  rose  up,  and  many  long  lashes  whistled  through  the 
air.  The  seething  mass  broke  away  and  flew  howling  and 
yelping  into  outer  darkness  followed  by  a  roar  of  curses — but 
only  in  civilized  tongues. 

Presently  all  was  still  again.  The  men  lay  down,  and  the 
dogs,  one  by  one,  came  slinking  back  to  their  resting  places. 
But  in  a  couple  of  hours  one  of  the  half -frozen  brutes  silently 
rose  up,  cautiously  stepped  among  the  sleeping  men,  and  lay 
couched  close  to  a  smouldering  fire.  Another  followed  and 
then  another  until  most  of  the  dogs  had  left  their  beds.  Grow- 
ing bolder,  a  couple  of  the  beasts  fought  for  a  warmer  spot. 
In  their  tussle  they  sprawled  over  one  of  the  men,  but  a  few 
lusty  blows  from  a  handy  frying-pan  restored  calm.  As  the 
night  wore  on  some  of  the  dogs,  not  contented  with  sleeping 
beside  the  men,  curled  up  on  top  of  their  unconscious  masters. 
Then  for  hours  nothing  but  the  heavy  breathing  and  snoring 
in  camp  and  the  howling  of  distant  wolves  was  heard.  Slum- 
ber had  at  last  overtaken  the  wild  men  of  the  wilderness — who 
always  made  it  a  rule  to  kneel  down  every  night,  and  ask  God 
to  bless  their  little  children  at  home. 

Now,  though  time  still  sped  on,  silence  possessed  the 
forest — until: 

"Hurrah,  mes  bons  hommes!  Levey,  levey,  levey!    Up,  up 


MEETING  OF  THE  WILD  MEN  205 

up,  up,  up!"  ending  in  a  shrill  yell  from  the  guide  startled  the 
drowsy  crew.  It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  brilhancy  of  the  Northern  Lights  all  would  have 
been  in  darkness.  An  obscure  form  bent  over  an  ash-bed  and 
fumbled  something.  A  tiny  blaze  appeared  and  rapidly  grew 
until  the  surroimding  forest  was  aflare.  Over  the  fires  frying- 
pans  sizzled,  while  tea-pails  heaped  with  snow  began  to  steam. 
A  hurried  breakfast  followed.  The  sleds  were  packed.  The 
dogs,  still  curled  up  in  the  snow,  pretended  to  be  asleep. 

"Caesar!  Tigre!  Cabri!  Whiskey!  Tete  Noire!  Pilot! 
Michinass!  Coffee!  Bull!  Brandie!  Caribou!  "shouted  the 
men.  A  few  of  the  dogs  answered  to  their  names  and  came  to 
harness  while  some  holding  back  were  tugged  forward  by  the 
scruff  of  the  neck.  Others  were  still  in  hiding.  The  men 
searched  among  the  moimds  and  bushes.  Every  now  and  then 
the  crack  of  a  whip  and  the  yelp  of  a  dog  annoimced  the  finding 
of  a  truant.  Two  trackers  on  large  snowshoes  had  already 
gone  ahead  to  break  the  trail.  It  was  easy  to  follow  their  tracks 
though  the  woods  were  still  in  darkness  and  remained  so  for 
several  hours.  At  dawn  Oo-koo-hoo  and  our  httle  outfit  parted 
company  with  the  Dog  Brigade.  Already  the  packet  was 
many  miles  ahead.  As  I  turned  on  my  western  way,  I  thought 
of  the  work  of  these  postmen  of  the  wilderness,  of  the  hardships 
they  endured,  and  the  perils  they  braved;  and  the  Chief 
Factor's  assertion  that  no  packet  had  ever  been  lost  beyond 
recovery,  recalled  to  mind  other  stories  that  were  worth  re- 
membering: For  instance,  a  canoe  express  was  descending  the 
Mackenzie  River;  the  canoe  was  smashed  in  an  ice  jam,  and 
the  packeteers  were  drowned.  A  few  weeks  later  passing 
Indians  caught  sight  of  a  stick  bobbing  in  the  surface  of  the 
stream.  Though  the  water  was  deep  and  the  current  was 
running  at  the  rate  of  three  miles  an  hour,  the  stick  remained 
in  the  same  place.  So  the  Indians  paddled  over  to  investi- 
gate.   They  found  that  to  the  floating  stick  was  fastened  a 


206  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

long  thong,  which  on  being  pulled  up  brought  the  missing 
packet  to  hght. 

Again,  while  making  camp  near  the  Athabasca  River,  the 
packeteers  had  slung  the  packet  in  a  tree,  the  usual  place 
for  it  while  in  camp.  During  the  night  their  fire  spread  and 
burned  up  the  whole  equipment  except  the  tree,  which,  being 
green,  received  Uttle  more  than  a  scorching.  The  packet  was 
unharmed. 

On  Great  Slave  Lake  during  a  fierce  snowstorm  the  packe- 
teers became  separated  from  their  dogs,  and  were  frozen  to 
death.    But  the  packet  was  recovered. 

In  one  autumn  two  packeteers  journeying  from  George's 
River  Post  to  Ungava  Post  drew  up  their  canoe  on  a  sandy 
beach,  and  camped  beneath  a  high,  overhanging  bank.  During 
the  night  the  bank  gave  way  and  buried  them  as  they  slept. 
When  the  ice  formed,  the  trader  at  Ungava  sent  out  two  men 
to  search  for  the  missing  packet.  They  found  the  canoe  on  the 
beach;  and  from  the  appearance  of  the  bank,  conjectured  what 
had  happened.  Next  spring  the  landsHde  was  dug  into,  and 
the  packeteers  were  found  both  lying  under  the  same  blanket, 
their  heads  resting  upon  the  packet. 


VI 
WILD  ANIMALS  AND   MEN 

WOLVEmNE  AND  HUNTER 

One  evening,  while  sitting  before  the  fire  in  Oo-koo-hoo's 
lodge,  we  heard  soimds  that  told  us  that  Amik  had  returned, 
and  presently  he  entered  the  tepee,  full  of  wrath  over  the  havoc 
a  wolverine  had  wrought  along  his  trapping  path.  The  pelts 
of  more  dead  game  had  been  ruined;  deadfalls  had  been  broken; 
and  even  some  of  his  steel  traps  had  been  carried  away.  There 
and  then  Oo-koo-hoo  decided  that  he  would  drop  all  other  work 
and  hunt  the  marauder. 

For  its  size — ^being  about  three  feet  in  length  and  from 
twelve  to  eighteen  inches  high — the  wolverine  is  an  amazingly 
powerful  creature.  In  appearance  it  somewhat  resembles  a 
small  brown  bear.  Though  it  is  not  a  fast  traveller  its 
home  range  may  cover  anywhere  from  five  to  fifty  miles.  It 
feeds  upon  all  sorts  of  small  game,  and  has  been  known  to  kill 
even  deer.  It  mates  about  the  end  of  March,  dens  in  any 
convenient  earthen  hole  or  rocky  crevice  or  cave  that  may 
afford  suitable  shelter;  and  it  makes  its  bed  of  dry  leaves,  grass, 
or  moss.  The  young,  which  number  from  three  to  five,  are  bom 
in  June.  Whenever  necessary,  the  mother  strives  desperately 
to  protect  her  young,  and  is  so  formidable  a  fighter  that 
even  though  the  hunter  may  be  armed  with  a  gun,  he  runs 
considerable  risk  of  being  injured  by  the  brute.  It  has  been 
known  to  take  possession  of  the  carcass  even  of  a  caribou  and 
to  stand  off  the  hunter  who  had  just  shot  it.  Also,  it  has  been 
known  to  drive  a  wolf,  and  even  a  bear,  away  from  their  quarry. 

207 


208  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

The  superstitious  Indian  not  only  believes  that  the  wolverine 
is  possessed  of  the  devil — for  it  is  the  most  destructive  animal 
in  the  northern  world — ^but  he  considers  it  also  to  be  endowed 
with  great  inteUigence.  The  wily  Indian,  however,  knowing 
the  animal's  habit  of  trying  to  destroy  what  it  cannot  carry 
away,  takes  advantage  of  that  very  fact  and  hunts  it  ac- 
cordingly. 

All  that  has  been  said  in  relation  to  trapping  the  fox  apphes 
also  to  le  Carcajou — i.  e.,  the  wolverine — save  that  the  trap  chain 
should  be  doubled,  and  everything  else  made  stronger  and 
heavier  in  proportion  to  the  wolverine's  greater  size  and 
strength.   That  evening  Oo-koo-hoo  talked  much  of  wolverines. 

"My  son,  no  other  animal  surpasses  it  in  devihsh  cunning. 
For  it  is  not  content  to  merely  spring  a  trap,  but  it  will  carry 
it  away — ^more  often  for  a  short  distance,  but  sometimes  for 
miles — and  hide  or  bury  it.  Later  on  the  wolverine  may  visit 
it  again,  carry  it  still  farther  away  and  bury  it  once  more. 
The  wolverine  has  good  teeth  for  cutting  wood,  and  will  some- 
times free  a  trap  from  its  clog  by  gnawing  the  pole  in  two.  My 
son,  I  have  even  known  a  wolverine  go  to  the  trouble  of  digging 
a  hole  in  which  to  bury  a  trap  of  mine;  but  just  in  order  to  fool 
me,  the  beast  has  filled  up  the  hole  again,  carried  the  trap  to 
another  place,  and  there  finally  buried  it.  But  as  a  good 
hunter  is  very  observant,  he  is  seldom  fooled  that  way,  for  the 
wolverine,  having  very  short  legs,  has  difficulty  in  keeping  both 
the  chain  and  the  trap  from  leaving  tell-tale  marks  in  the  snow. 

"Yes,  my  son,  the  wolverine  is  a  very  knowing  brute,  and  if 
he  thinks  he  may  be  trailed,  he  will  sometimes — ^without  the 
shghtest  sign  of  premeditation — ^jump  sideways  over  a  bush,  a 
log,  or  a  rock,  in  order  to  begin,  out  of  sight  of  any  trailer,  a  new 
trail;  or  he  may  make  a  great  spring  to  gain  a  tree,  and  ascend 
it  without  even  leaving  the  evidence  of  freshly  fallen  bark. 
Then,  too,  he  may  climb  from  tree  to  tree,  by  way  of  the 
interlocking  branches,  for  a  distance  of  a  hundred  paces  or  more. 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  209 

all  the  while  carrying  the  trap  with  him.  Then,  descending  to 
the  ground,  he  may  travel  for  a  considerable  distance  before 
eventually  burying  the  trap.  I  have  known  him  even  leave  a 
trap  in  a  tree,  but  in  that  case  it  was  not  done  from  design,  for 
signs  proved  that  the  chain  had  been  caught  upon  a  branch." 

"How  many  wolverines,"  I  asked,  "do  you  suppose  are  caus- 
ing all  the  trouble  on  your  and  Amik's  trapping  paths  .^^" 

"  Only  one,  my  son,  for  even  one  wolverine  can  destroy  traps 
and  game  for  twenty  or  thirty  miles  around;  and  the  reason 
the  brute  is  so  persistent  in  following  a  hunter's  fur  path  is 
that  it  usually  affords  the  wolverine  an  abundance  of  food. 
Then,  when  the  hunter  finds  the  brute  is  bent  on  steady  mis- 
chief, it  is  time  for  him  to  turn  from  all  other  work  and  hunt 
the  thief.  If  at  first  steel  traps  fail,  he  may  build  special  dead- 
falls, often  only  as  decoys  round  which  to  set,  unseen,  more  steel 
traps  in  wait  for  the  marauder. 

"If  a  hunter  still  fails,  he  may  sit  up  all  night  in  wait  for 
the  robber,  knowing  that  the  more  stormy  the  night,  the 
better  his  chance  of  shooting  the  brute.  Sometimes,  too,  I 
have  found  a  wolverine  so  hard  to  catch  that  I  have  resorted 
to  setting  traps  in  the  ashes  of  my  dead  fires,  or  beneath  the 
brush  I  have  used  for  my  bed,  while  camping  upon  my  trap- 
ping path."  Then  he  added  with  a  twinkle  about  his  eye  and  a 
shake  of  his  finger :  "But,  my  son,  I  have  another  way  and  I  am 
going  to  try  it  before  the  moon  grows  much  older." 

I  asked  him  to  explain,  but  he  only  laughed  knowingly,  so  I 
turned  the  subject  by  asking : 

"Does  an  animal  ever  eat  the  bait  after  it  is  caught.^" 

"No,  my  son,  no  animal  ever  does  that,  not  even  if  it  be 
starving,  but  it  may  eat  snow  to  quench  its  thirst.  Animals, 
however,  do  not  often  starve  to  death  when  caught  in  traps, 
but  if  the  weather  be  very  severe,  they  may  freeze  in  a  single 
night.  If,  however,  the  beast  is  still  ahve  when  the  hunter 
arrives,  the  prisoner  will  in  most  cases  feign  death  in  the  hope 


210  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

of  getting  free.  That  is  true  of  most  animals,  and,  fmihermore, 
it  will  feign  death  even  when  other  animals  approach;  but  then, 
more  often,  its  purpose  is  to  secure  the  advantage  of  making  a 
sudden  or  surprise  attack." 

An  Indian  named  Larzie,  who  was  engaged  to  hunt  meat 
for  the  priests  at  Fort  Resolution,  once  came  upon  a  wolverine 
in  one  of  his  traps  that  had  done  that  very  thing  and  won  the 
battle,  too.  The  snow,  the  trap,  and  the  carcass  of  a  wolf, 
silently  told  Larzie  every  detail  of  the  fight.  The  wolverine, 
having  been  caught  by  the  left  hind  leg,  had  attempted  by 
many  means  to  escape,  even  trying  to  remove  the  nuts  from  the 
steel  trap  with  its  teeth,  as  well  as  trying  to  break  the  steel 
chain,  and  gnaw  in  two  the  wooden  clog  to  which  the  trap  was 
fastened.  But  before  accomphshing  this,  the  wolverine  had 
spied  a  pack  of  five  wolves  approaching.  In  an  effort  to  save 
its  life  the  wolverine  worked  itself  down  low  in  the  snow  and 
there  lay,  feigning  death.  The  cautious  wolves,  on  sighting  the 
wolverine,  began  circling  about,  each  time  drawing  a  Httle 
nearer.  StiU  suspicious,  they  sat  down  to  watch  the  wolverine 
for  a  while.  Then  they  circled  again,  sat  down  once  more,  and 
perhaps  did  a  httle  howling,  too.  Then  they  circled  again,  each 
time  coming  closer,  until  at  last,  feeling  quite  sure  the  wolverine 
was  dead,  one  of  the  wolves,  in  a  careless  way,  ventured  too 
near.  No  doubt  it  was  then  that  the  wolverine,  peeping 
through  his  almost  closed  eyehds,  had  seen  his  chance — that 
the  nearest  wolf  was  now  not  only  within  reach,  but  off  guard, 
too — ^for  the  snow  gave  evidence  of  a  sudden  spring.  The 
wolverine  had  landed  upon  the  back  of  the  wolf,  clung  on  with 
his  powerful  forelegs,  and  not  only  ripped  away  at  the  wolf's 
beUy  with  the  long,  sharp  claws  of  his  free  hind  foot,  but 
with  his  terrible  jaws  had  seized  the  wolf  by  the  neck  and 
chewed  away  at  the  spinal  cord.  Then,  no  doubt,  the  other 
wolves,  seeing  their  comrade  overpowered  and  done  to  death, 
had  turned  away  and  left  the  scene  of  battle.    Later,  Larzie 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  211 

had  arrived,  and  after  kilCng  the  wolverine  and  skinning  both 
the  conquerer  and  the  conquered,  had  lighted  his  pipe  and 
leisurely  read  every  detail  of  the  story  in  that  morning's  issue 
of  the  forest  pubhcation  called  The  Snow, 

Next  morning,  when  I  turned  out  before  breakfast,  I  found 
that  Oo-koo-hoo  had  left  camp  before  dayhght;  and  half  the 
afternoon  passed  before  he  returned.  That  evening  he  ex- 
plained that  during  the  previous  night,  the  thought  of  the 
wolverine  having  haunted  him  and  spoilt  his  rest,  he  had 
decided  on  a  certain  plan,  risen  before  dawn,  and  started  upon 
the  trail.  Now  he  was  full  of  the  subject,  and  without  my  ask- 
ing, described  what  he  had  done.  Securing  a  number  of  fish 
hooks — trout  size — ^he  had  wired  them  together,  enclosed  them 
in  the  centre  of  a  ball  of  grease  which  he  had  placed  inside  an  old 
canvas  bag,  and  fastened  there  with  the  aid  of  wires  attached  to 
the  hooks.  Then,  carrying  the  bag  to  where  he  foimd  fairly 
fresh  wolverine  signs,  he  had  dropped  it  upon  the  trail  as 
though  it  had  accidentally  fallen  there.  The  wolverine,  he 
explained,  would  probably  at  first  attempt  to  carry  away  the 
bag,  but  on  scenting  the  grease  it  would  paw  the  bag  about; 
then,  upon  discovering  the  opening,  it  would  thrust  its  head 
inside,  seize  the  ball  of  grease  in  its  mouth,  and  start  to  pull  it 
out.  "If  that  should  happen,"  commented  Oo-koo-hoo, 
"the  wolverine  would  never  leave  that  spot  aHve;  it  would 
just  he  there  and  wait  for  me  to  come  and  knock  it  on  the 
head." 

But  now  at  last — as  later  events  proved — Oo-koo-hoo,  the 
great  hunter,  had  encountered  his  match.  Now  it  was  no 
longer  an  unequal  contest,  for  now  two  could  play  at  cunning — 
especially  when  both  were  masters  at  the  game.  Three  times 
The  Owl  visited  his  latest  wolverine  trap,  only  to  learn  that 
twice  the  brute  had  inspected  it  and  spurned  it,  for  its  tracks 
proved  that  caution  had  kept  the  animal  more  than  five  feet 
away.    Later,  as  the  winter  wore  on,  the  subject  of  wolverines 


212  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

was  rarely  mentioned  as  it  did  not  add  to  the  cheerfulness  of 
Oo-koo-hoo*s  otherwise  happy  mood. 


THE  BEST  FOOT-GEAR 

About  a  week  later,  with  a  few  days'  outfit  loaded  upon  our 
sled,  Oo-koo-hoo  and  I  were  heading  first  for  the  Moose  Hills 
where  we  were  to  hunt  moose,  and  if  successful,  to  cache  the 
meat  where  Granny  and  the  boys  could  find  it;  then  continuing 
farther  north  we  were  to  call  upon  The  Owl's  sister  to  deliver 
her  a  present  from  the  children  of  Oo-koo-hoo.  In  the  meantime, 
Amik  had  gone  upon  one  of  his  trapping  paths,  and  the  boys 
were  off  to  a  swampy  region  to  examine  deadfalls  set  for  mink 
and  fisher.    The  boys  had  taken  the  dogs  with  them. 

It  was  a  fine,  cold,  sunny  morning  when  Oo-koo-hoo  and  I  set 
out  upon  om*  hunt,  and  with  every  breath  we  seemed  to  be 
drinking  aerial  champagne  that  made  us  fairly  tingle  with  the 
joy  of  living — ^for  such  is  the  northern  air  in  winter  time. 
As  we  snowshoed  along  I  felt  thankful  for  the  excellent 
socks  with  which  the  old  hunter  had  provided  me.  On  thelast 
hunt  my  snowshoe  thongs  had  blistered  my  feet,  but  now, 
thanks  to  Oo-koo-hoo,  I  was  shod  with  the  most  perfect  foot- 
gear for  winter  travel  I  have  ever  known — a  natural  sock  that 
was  both  bHster-  and  cold-proof.  I  had  never  heard  of  it  before, 
but  The  Owl  assured  me  that  it  had  been  long  in  fashion  among 
the  Indians.  On  each  foot  I  was  now  wearing  next  my  bare 
skin  a  rabbit  pelt — ^minus  legs  and  ears — ^put  on,  hair  side  out, 
while  the  skin  was  still  green  and  damp,  and  then  allowed  to 
dry  and  shape  itself  to  the  foot.  Over  the  rabbit  pelts  I  wore 
my  regular  woollen  socks,  duffel  neaps,  and  c£a*ibou-skin  mitten 
moccasins.  The  pelts  had  been  removed  from  the  rabbits  by 
simply  cutting  them  between  the  hind  legs,  and  then  peeling 
them  off  inside  out.  With  the  inside  of  the  skin  next  the  foot 
bhsters  never  form,  nor  does  the  hair  wear  off  and  ball  up  under 


''There  s  the  York  Factory  packet  from  Hudson  Bay  to  Winnipeg, 
a  distance  of  seven  hundred  miles.  In  winter  it  is  hauled  by  dogs 
between  Selkirk  and  Oxford  House,  but  between  the  latter  post  and 
York  Factory  it  is  hauled  by  men  with  toboggans.  All  mails  in  and 
out  from  Hudson  Bay  to  or  from  the  next  post  in  the  interior  are 
hauled  by  men.  Dogs  are  seldom  used  on  thu)se  routes,  on  account 
of     .     .     ."      See  Chapter  V 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  213 

the  foot  in  such  a  way  that  it  may  hurt  the  wearer.  Though 
the  rabbit  pelt  is  very  tender  and  tears  easily,  it  can  be  worn  for 
five  or  six  days  of  hard  travel.  For  warmth  and  comfort  it  is 
unexcelled. 

Early  that  afternoon  we  came  upon  many  lynx  tracks, 
evidently  there  had  been  a  "pass  of  lynxes"  as  the  hunters 
call  it,  for  lynxes  have  a  way  of  gathering  in  bands  of  about  four 
to  eight  and  passing  through  the  forest.  Oo-koo-hoo  stated 
that  they  migrated  in  that  way  from  one  region  to  another, 
covering  many  miles  in  search  of  game,  especially  during  the 
years  when  the  rabbit  plague  causes  a  great  shortage  of  food; 
and  had  he  known  of  their  presence  in  time,  he  would  have  cut 
big  heaps  of  poplar,  birch,  and  willow  branches  to  attract  the 
rabbits,  and  thus  furnish  more  food  for  the  lynxes.  Hoping, 
however,  that  he  was  not  too  late,  he  set  what  few  snares  he 
had;  nevertheless,  he  regretted  that  the  boys  had  gone  off 
with  the  dogs,  for,  if  they  had  not,  he  would  have  tried  to  trail 
and  tree  the  lynxes. 

The  boys  had  taken  the  dogs  because  they  wanted  them 
to  haul  their  sled.  It  was,  however,  against  the  advice  of 
their  grandfather,  for  he  had  admonished  them  that  only 
white  men  and  half-breeds  would  use  dogs  to  haul  a  sled  on  a 
trapping  path;  that  a  good  hunter  would  never  do  such  a  foolish 
thing,  and  for  many  reasons:  the  traps — being  usually  set 
close  to  the  path — ^were  apt  to  be  either  set  off  or  destroyed  by 
the  swinging  sled;  besides,  the  dogs'  tracks  would  obhterate 
the  tracks  of  game;  also  the  dogs  might  be  caught  in  the  traps; 
furthermore,  the  smell  of  dogs  always  inspired  fear  in  animals, 
again,  the  noise  of  driving  dogs  frightened  the  game  away.  So, 
according  to  Oo-koo-hoo,  the  wise  hunter  either  packs  his  load 
upon  his  back,  or,  by  himself,  hauls  it  upon  his  sled.  But  one 
must  remember  that  The  Owl  was  an  Ojibway  and  that  those 
Indians  as  well  as  the  Saulteaux  Indians  prefer  to  haul  their 
own  sleds  on  the  hunting  trail  and  to  keep  their  dogs  solely 


214  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

for  trailing  game;  though  all  other  Indians  of  the  Strong  Woods 
use  their  dogs  for  hauling  sleds.  One  advantage  of  the  Ojihway 
custom  is  that  hunting  dogs — ^when  running  loose — ^never  have 
to  be  fed. 

Amik,  however,  being  a  rather  shiftless  fellow,  often  spoilt 
his  boys  as  much  as  the  average  white  father  spoils  his,  for 
he  never  thrashed  them,  though  they  frequently  deserved  it, 
and  having  given  in  to  them  on  many  previous  occasions,  he 
had  now  let  them  take  the  dogs.  But  speaking  of  parents' 
treatment  of  children,  even  an  old  she-bear  could  give  many  a 
civilized  father  or  mother  pointers  on  how  to  bring  up  children, 
for  even  among  animals  and  birds  one  frequently  finds  a  model 
parent. 

According  to  the  verdict  of  the  old  fur-traders,  the  best 
trapper  is  the  uncivilized  Indian.  Though,  apparently,  he 
does  not  derive  the  same  amount  of  sport  from  his  work  as  the 
white  man  does,  he  never  shirks  his  work  and  always  takes 
great  pains  to  prepare  for  and  perfect  the  setting  of  his  traps. 
Though  he  is  slow,  he  is,  nevertheless,  sure  and  deadly  in  his 
work.  Oo-koo-hoo  assiu-ed  me  that  the  secret  of  successful 
hunting  was  inteUigence,  caution,  and  patience. 

During  December  and  January,  or  according  to  the  Indians, 
Yeyekoopewe  Pesim — "The  Rime  Moon,"  and  Kakisapowa- 
tukinum — "The  Moon  When  Everything  Is  Brittle,"  there  is 
always  a  lull  in  the  trapping,  for  the  reason  that  then  the 
days  are  shorter  and  the  weather  colder,  and  on  that  account 
and  also  on  account  of  the  fact  that  the  sun  and  winds  of  March 
have  not  arrived  to  harden  the  deep  soft  snow,  the  forest 
creatures  prefer  to  remain  more  at  home. 

APPROACHING  MOOSE 

In  approaching  the  Moose  Hills  we  saw  many  moose  tracks, 
but  they  were  old,  the  freshest  having  been  made  two  days 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  215 

before.  The  age  of  these  the  hunter  was  able  to  detennine 
from  the  amount  of  newly  fallen  snow  in  the  track,  as  well  as 
from  other  conditions;  for  he  well  remembered  how  much  snow 
had  fallen  each  day  for  the  last  week  or  two,  when  and  which 
way  the  wind  had  blown,  and  when  the  sun  was  strong  and  the 
cold  severe.  Now  selecting  a  two-day-old  trail  as  the  best 
for  us  to  follow,  he  decided  to  camp  for  the  night,  and  we  spent 
the  interval  between  supper  and  bedtime  discussing  not  only 
the  hunting  of  moose,  but  also  their  range  and  habits. 

The  extreme  range  of  a  moose  covers  from  five  to  fifteen 
miles.  More  often  it  is  confined  to  a  much  smaller  area  that 
merely  includes  the  low-lying  river  and  lake  valleys  that  afford 
him  the  choicest  of  summer  food — the  pineapple-hke  roots  of 
waterlihes — and  also  affords  him  protection  from  flies  while 
he  is  wading  and  delving  for  those  very  roots;  and  the 
higher  lands  among  the  hills,  where  he  spends  the  winter  in 
the  denser  forest. 

But  it  is  in  midsummer  that  we  can  study  the  moose  with 
greatest  ease,  for  then  he  spends  the  sunrises  and  sunsets 
wading  among  the  lily  pads,  and  if  we  £tre  careful  to  observe  the 
direction  of  the  wind  to  guard  against  being  scented,  and  also 
careful  to  cease  paddhng  or  any  other  motion  before  the  big 
brute  looks  at  us,  we  may,  with  the  greatest  ease  and  safety, 
propel  our  canoe  to  within  from  a  hundred  yards  to  fifty  or 
forty  feet  of  the  great  beast  as  he  stands  looking  at  us 
with  raised  head  and  dilating  nostrils  trying  to  catch  our  scent. 
If  he  catches  it,  he  suddenly  tosses  his  ponderous  head,  drops 
back  slightly  on  his  hind  legs  as  he  swings  round,  and  is  off 
with  a  grunt.  Nevertheless,  he — or  she — will  pause  long  enough 
to  leave  the  sign  that  all  deer  leave  upon  the  ground  when 
suddenly  startled  by — to  them — the  dreadful  smeU  of  human 
beings.  Or  if  it  happens  to  be  moonhght  and  the  moose  is  a 
bit  mystified  by  the  steady,  but  silent,  scentless,  and  motionless 
approach  of  our  canoe,  he  may  at  first  stand  gazingat  us,  then 


216  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

grunt  at  us,  then  back  out  of  the  water  up  on  to  the  bank  and 
there  stand,  not  fifty  feet  away,  towering  above  us — ^for  he 
may  measiu-e  from  six  to  seven  feet  at  the  shoulder  and 
weigh  three  quarters  of  a  ton — shaking  his  great  antlers  and 
grunting,  or  perhaps,  more  properly  speaking,  barking  at  us 
while  he  stamps  his  big  fore  hoofs  ,until  he  shakes  the  very 
river  bank. 

How  children  love  to  take  part  in  such  sport!  How  they 
thrill  over  such  an  experience!  Many  a  time  I  have  taken 
them  right  up  to  even  the  largest  of  bulls  until  the  Httle  tots 
could  look  into  the  very  eyes  of  the  greatest  of  all  living  deer. 
What  fine  httle  hunters,  too,  they  made,  never  speaking,  not 
even  in  a  whisper;  never  moving — ^save  only  their  eyelids. 
In  fact,  I  have  been  so  close  to  wild  moose  that  on  one  occasion 
I  could  have  spanked  a  huge  bull  with  my  paddle.  He  was 
standing  belly-deep  in  the  river  with  his  head  under  water, 
and  so  close  did  my  canoe  ghde  past  him  that  I  had  to  turn  it 
to  prevent  it  from  running  in  between  his  hind  legs.  It  was 
the  sound  of  turning  aside  the  canoe  that  brought  his  head  up, 
and  when  he  beheld  the  cause,  he  lunged  forward  and  trotted 
away  leaving  a  great  wake  of  surging  foam  behind  him.  His 
head,  crowned  with  massive  antlers,  was  a  ponderous  affair. 
His  body  was  as  large  as  that  of  a  Shire  staUion  and  his  back 
just  as  flat,  while  his  legs  were  very  much  longer.  He  was 
the  largest  moose  I  have  ever  seen — and  yet,  by  leaning  shghtly 
toward  him,  I  could  have  spanked  him  with  my  paddle!  One 
such  experience  with  a  great,  wild  animal,  is  more  adventure- 
some, more  thrilling  and  more  satisfactory,  than  the  shooting 
of  a  hundred  such  creatures.  It  is  more  than  the  sport  of  kings 
— ^it  is  the  sport  of  men  of  common  sense. 

On  another  occasion,  at  Shahwandahgooze,  in  Quebec, 
in  broad  dayhght,  I  paddled  a  friend  of  mine  right  in  between 
three  bulls  and  a  cow,  and  there  we  rested  with  moose  on  three 
sides  of  us.    They  were  standing  in  a  semicircle  and  no  one  of 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  217 

them  was  more  than  fifty  paces  away.  They  were  unusually 
fine  specimens  and  had  the  bulls  been  triplets  they  could  not 
have  been  more  alike  even  to  the  detail  of  their  antlers.  The 
cow  paid  httle  attention  to  us  and  went  on  feeding  while  the 
bulls,  with  heads  held  much  higher  than  usual,  stood  as  though 
in  perfect  pose  for  some  sculptor.  There  wasn't  a  breath  of 
wind  and  the  wondrous  spell  must  have  lasted  from  eight  to  ten 
minutes;  then  a  faint  zephyr  came  and  carried  our  tell-tale 
scent  to  them  and  they  wheeled  round  and  trotted  away.  Yet 
the  head  hunter  from  the  city,  who  usually  stands  off  at  long 
range  and  fires  at  the  first  sight  of  game,  will  argue  that  killing 
is  the  greatest  sport;  when  in  truth  it  requires  greater  courage 
and  greater  skill  to  approach,  unarmed,  so  close  to  game  that 
one  may  touch  it  with  a  fish  pole,  and  the  reward  is  a  much 
greater  and  a  more  satisfactory  thrill  than  the  head  hunter 
ever  gets  from  lying  off  at  long  range  with  a  high-powered  rifle 
and  utterly  destroying  life.  Fiu-thermore,  think  of  how  much 
better  one  can  study  natural  history  by  observing  live  animals 
in  action,  rather  than  motionless  ones  in  death!  An  artist,  in 
his  effort  to  render  a  perfect  portrait  of  a  human  being,  never 
murders  his  sitter,  as  the  so-called  "sportsman-naturalist" 
does.  It  seems  to  me  that  if  sportsmen  were  more  active, 
more  skilful,  and  more  courageous,  they  would  give  up  slaugh- 
tering animals  and  birds  for  the  sake  of  the  unbounded  pleasure 
and  adventure  of  observing  wild  game  at  closer  quarters;  but  in 
truth,  long  experience  has  taught  me  that  the  average  hunter 
from  the  city  is  something  of  a  coward — never  daring  to 
walk  alone  in  the  forest  without  his  trusty,  life-destroying 
machines. 

But  if  those  same  hunters  would  only  take  a  little  more 
interest  in  nature,  pluck  up  a  little  more  courage,  and  re- 
member that  the  wild  animals  of  the  northern  forest  are  less 
vicious — when  unmolested — than  are  many  of  the  tame  animals 
of  civilization,  how  much  more  sane  they  would  be.    Re- 


218  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

member,  it  is  much  safer  to  approach  the  great  bulls  of  the 
forest  than  it  is  to  approach  the  smaller  bulls  of  the  farmers' 
fields.  Likewise,  when  tramping  along  the  rural  road  one  runs 
a  much  greater  chance  of  being  bitten  by  the  farmer's  dog,  than 
one  does,  when  travelling  through  the  forest,  of  being  bitten  by 
a  wolf.  Then,  too,  it  is  just  the  same  of  men,  for  the  men  of 
the  cities  are  much  more  quarrelsome,  dishonest,  and  evil- 
minded  than  are  those  of  the  wilderness,  and  that,  no  doubt, 
accoimts  for  the  endless  slandering  of  the  wilderness  dwellers 
by  fiction  writers  who  live  in  towns,  for  those  authors — never 
having  lived  in  the  wilderness — form  their  judgment  of  hfe, 
either  as  they  have  experienced  it  in  cities  or  as  they  imagine 
it  to  be  in  the  wilderness. 

THE  OUTLAW  AND  NEW  YORKER 

Now,  in  order  to  confirm  my  statement,  I  shall  go  to  the  very 
extreme  and  quote  what  Al  Jennings,  the  notorious  outlaw,  says 
upon  this  very  subject.  The  quotation  is  taken  from  Jen- 
nings' reminiscences  of  his  prison  days,  when  he  and  the  late 
lamented  Wilham  Sydney  Porter — the  afterward  famous 
author  0.  Henry — ^formed  such  a  strong  friendship.  In  the 
following  dialogue  Jennings  is  in  New  York  City  visiting  Porter 
— ^whom  he  calls  "Bill" — and  Porter  is  speaking: 

"I  have  accepted  an  invitation  for  you,  Colonel."  He  was 
in  one  of  his  gently  sparkhng  moods.  "Get  into  your  armor 
asinorum,  for  we  fare  forth  to  make  contest  with  tinsel  and 
gauze.  In  other  words,  we  mingle  with  the  proletariat.  We 
go  to  see  Margaret  Anghn  and  Henry  Miller  in  that  superb  and 
realistic  Western  libel,  *The  Great  Divide.'  " 

After  the  play  the  great  actress,  Porter,  and  I,  and  one  or  two 
others  were  to  have  supper  at  the  Breslin  Hotel.  I  think  Porter 
took  me  there  that  he  might  sit  back  and  enjoy  my  unabashed 
criticisms  to  the  young  lady's  face. 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  219 

"I  feel  greatly  disappointed  in  you,  Mr.  Porter,"  Margaret 
Anglin  said  to  Bill  as  we  took  our  places  at  the  table. 

"In  what  have  I  failed?" 

"You  promised  to  bring  your  Western  friend — that  terrible 
Mr.  Jennings — to  criticize  the  play." 

"Well,  I  have  introduced  him."  He  waved  his  hand  down 
toward  me. 

Miss  Anglin  looked  me  over  with  the  trace  of  a  smile  in  her 
eye. 

"Pardon  me,"  she  said,  "but  I  can  hardly  associate  you 
with  the  lovely  things  they  say  of  you.  Did  you  like  the 
play.^" 

I  told  her  I  didn't.  It  was  unreal.  No  man  of  the  West 
would  shake  dice  for  a  lady  in  distress.  The  situation  was  un- 
heard of  and  could  only  occur  in  the  imagination  of  a  fat- 
headed  Easterner  who  had  never  set  his  feet  beyond  the 
Hudson. 

Miss  Anglin  laughed  merrily.  "New  York  is  wild  over  it; 
New  York  doesn't  know  any  better." 

Porter  sat  back,  an  expansive  smile  spreading  a  hght  in  his 
gray  eyes. 

"I  am  inclined  to  agree  with  our  friend,"  he  offered.  "The 
West  is  unacquainted  with  Manhattan  chivalry." 

That  is  the  truth  in  a  sentence;  and  while  0.  Henry  and 
Jennings  have  spoken  for  the  West,  may  I  add  my  own  exper- 
ience of  wilderness  men  and  say  that  the  North,  also,  is  unac- 
quainted with  Manhattan  chivalry. 

LAW  AND  ORDER  ENFORCED 

Furthermore,  while  upon  this  subject,  I  wish  to  add  to  my 
own  protest  against  the  novelists'  wild  dreams  of  outlawry  in 
the  Canadian  wilderness,  a  quotation  from  E.  Ward  Smith's 
"Chronicles  of  the  Klondyke."    Mr.  Smith — as  you  no  doubt 


220  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

remember — ^was  the  first  city  clerk,  treasm-er,  assessor,  and  tax 
collector  of  Dawson  City;  and  this  is  what  he  says: 

"  I  want  to  say  at  the  very  outset  that  the  Yukon  was,  in  my 
opinion  at  least,  one  of  the  most  orderly  corners  of  the  earth. 
Even  in  the  early  days  of  the  boom,  when  miners  and  ad- 
venturers of  all  nationalities  poured  in,  the  scales  of  justice 
were  held  firmly  and  rigidly.  The  spell  of  the  Mounted  Police 
hung  over  the  snow-bound  land  and  checked  the  evil-doer.  It 
may  sound  ridiculous  when  I  assert  that  the  Yukon — ^that 
gathering  spot  of  so  much  of  the  scum  of  the  earth — ^was  better 
poHced  than  Winnipeg,  or  Toronto,  or  Halifax;  but,  neverthe- 
less, I  beheve  it  to  be  a  fact. 

**0f  com-se,  crimes  were  conamitted,  some  of  which  were 
never  solved.  Doubtless,  also  many  deeds  of  violence  occurred 
whose  authors  never  came  to  fight.  But,  on  the  whole,  life 
and  property  were  surprisingly  secure.  One  day  I  visited 
the  cabin  of  my  friend  Lippy,  who  made  a  million  or  so  upon 
El  Dorado.  The  door  was  partly  open,  so,  on  receiving  no 
response  to  my  knock,  I  walked  in.  The  cabin  was  empty. 
On  the  table  was  a  five-gallon  pail  heaped  high  with  ghttering 
nuggets  of  gold!  I  glanced  around  the  place.  On  the  shelves 
and  rafters,  on  chairs  and  under  bunks,  were  cans  fiUed  with 
gold.  There  was  a  snug  fortune  in  sight.  Any  one  could  have 
sfipped  in  and  stolen  the  lot.  I  took  Lippy  to  task  about  it 
when  he  came  in.    He  did  not  seem  at  all  concerned,  however. 

"Pshaw,"  he  said,  "I  always  have  quite  a  lot  of  gold  about. 
But  no  one  would  steal  it.     I've  never  lost  anything." 

But  as  the  Yukon  and  New  York  are  a  long  way  from  where 
Oo-koo-hoo  was  hunting,  let  us  return  to  his  Moose  Hills. 

THE   WAYS   OF  THE  MOOSE 

Moose  mate  in  September  and  October,  and  during  this 
period  great  battles  between  bulls  frequently  occur  before  the 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  221 

victor  walks  off  with  his  hard-won  spouse.  The  young — either 
one  or  two,  but  generally  two  after  the  mother's  first  experience 
— are  bom  in  May,  in  some  secluded  spot,  and  the  calves  soon 
begin  to  follow  their  mother  about,  and  they  follow  her,  too, 
into  their  second  year.  Horns  begin  to  grow  on  the  young 
bull  before  he  is  a  year  old,  but  they  are  mere  knobs  until  he 
is  a  year  and  a  half  old,  when  spikes  form;  by  the  third  year 
he  is  supphed  with  antlers.  The  perfect  antlers  of  a  big 
bull  sometimes  measure  seventy  inches  across,  yet  every 
winter — ^in  January  or  February — the  horns  are  shed.  During 
the  mating  season  moose  are  frequently  hunted  by  the  method 
known  as  "calling. "  The  hunter,  with  the  aid  of  a  birch-bark 
megaphone,  imitates  the  long-drawn  call  of  the  cow,  to  attract 
the  bull.  Then,  when  a  bull  answers  with  his  guttural  grunt  of 
Oo-ah,  Oo-ahy  the  Indian  imitates  that  sound,  too,  to  give  the 
first  bull  the  impression  that  a  second  is  approaching,  and  thus 
provokes  the  first  to  hurry  forward  within  range  of  the  hunter's 
gun.  But  when  the  rutting  season  is  over,  the  hunting  is  done 
by  snaring  or  stalking  or  trailing.  The  moose  derives  its 
winter  food  principally  from  browsing  upon  hardwood  twigs, 
and  when  the  deep  snows  of  midwinter  arrive,  he  is  generally  to 
be  found  in  a  "yard"  where  such  growth  is  most  abundant. 

A  moose  yard  is  usually  composed  of  a  series  of  gutters  from 
one  foot  to  eighteen  inches  wide,  intersecting  one  another  at 
any  distance  from  ten  to  fifty  feet  or  more  apart,  and  each 
gutter  being  punctured  about  every  three  feet  with  a  post  hole 
in  which  the  moose  steps  as  it  walks.  The  space  between  the 
tracks  is  generally  nothing  but  deep,  soft  snow,  anywhere  from 
three  to  five  feet  in  depth. 

Beside  the  moose  tracks  that  Oo-koo-hoo  and  I  had  seen  that 
day  was  much  silver  birch  and  red  willow,  and  from  the  signs  of 
freshly  cropped  twigs  we  knew  that  the  moose  were  not  un- 
usually tall,  and  we  knew,  too,  from  the  fact  that  the  tracks  were 
sharply  defined  as  well  as  from  their  ordinary  size  and  that  they 


222  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

were  not  deeply  impressed  in  the  snow,  that  the  moose  were 
those  of  about  three  years  old. 


THE   OWL   TRACKS  MOOSE 

That  night,  as  Oo-koo-hoo  was  in  a  talkative  mood,  he  told 
me  much  about  the  hunting  of  moose,  as  we  sat  before  our 
snow-encircled  fire  in  the  still,  silent,  sombre  woods. 

"We  hunters  usually  take  moose  by  shooting  or  snaring 
them,  and  the  first  thing  to  do  is  to  find  a  track,  and  if  it  is  old, 
foUow  it  up  until  new  signs  appear.  And  now,  my  son,  as  you 
may  some  day  want  to  hunt  moose  on  your  own  account,  I  shall 
tell  you  how  to  trail  them  and  what  to  do  when  you  find  them. 
Listen  to  my  words  and  remember :  As  soon  as  you  find  a  fresh 
track,  look  toward  the  sun  to  learn  the  time  of  day;  for  if  it  is 
between  eight  and  nine  on  a  winter  morning  the  moose  will  be 
feeding,  as  it  seldom  hes  down  until  between  ten  and  three. 
If  feeding,  the  track  will  zig-zag  about,  and  for  a  time  head 
mainly  up  wind,  until  its  feeding  is  nearly  done,  then  if  the  wind 
is  from  the  right,  the  moose  will  turn  to  the  left  and  circle  down 
wind  and  finally  come  about  close  to  its  old  trail  where  it  will 
He  down  to  rest.  So  when  you  find  a  zig-zagging  track  about 
which  the  brush  has  been  browsed,  and  when  the  wind  comes 
from  the  right  of  the  trail,  you,  too,  should  circle  to  the  left,  but 
instead  of  circhng  down  wind  as  the  moose  has  done,  or  is  now 
doing,  you  circle  up  wind  until  you  either  approach  the  danger 
point  where  the  wind  may  carry  your  scent  to  the  moose, 
or  otherwise,  until  you  cut  the  moose's  track.  In  either  case 
you  should  now  retrace  your  steps  for  some  distance  and  then 
begin  a  new  circle,  and  this  time,  a  smaller  one.  If  you  now 
find  a  new  trail,  but  still  no  sign  that  the  moose  has  turned  up 
wind,  or  is  about  to  do  so,  you  retrace  your  steps  and  begin  a 
still  smaller  circle,  then  when  you  strike  the  trail  again,  you  can 
judge  fairly  well — ^without  even  getting  a  sight  of  it — the  exact 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  223 

position  of  your  quarry.  Then  is  the  time  to  take  off  your 
snowshoes  and  approach  with  greater  care  then  ever;  but  re- 
member, always  keep  to  leeward  of  the  track  and  always  look 
up  wind.  Should  you  now  come  to  an  open  space,  watch  care- 
fully any  clumps  of  trees  or  bushes;  if  passing  through  heavy 
timber,  watch  for  an  opening,  and  if  there  should  be  fallen  tim- 
ber there,  scan  it  most  carefully  where  the  dead  trees  lie,  for 
there,  too,  your  game  may  be  lying.  Remember,  my  son,  if  you 
approach  a  moose  directly  he  will  either  see  or  scent  you,  and 
in  circling,  you  must  understand  that  only  the  skill  of  the 
hunter  in  reading  the  signs  can  successfully  determine  the  size 
of  the  circle — sometimes  it  may  cover  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 

"Then,  too,  my  son,  the  seasons  play  a  part  in  hunting.  In 
winter,  a  moose,  of  course,  does  not  go  to  water,  but  eats  snow 
to  slake  its  thirst.  But  whenever  there  is  open  water,  a  moose 
will  go  to  drink  about  sunrise;  in  the  fly  season,  however,  all 
rules  are  broken,  as  the  brute  then  goes  to  water  night  or  day, 
to  get  rid  of  the  pests,  and  it  will  even  remain  submerged  with 
nothing  above  the  surface — save  its  nose.  In  stormy  weather 
look  for  moose  among  heavy  timber,  and  in  fair  weather  search 
the  open  feeding  places.  But  in  bad  weather,  though  the  hun- 
ter gains  one  advantage,  the  moose  gains  another;  for  while 
many  twigs  and  sticks  are  apt  to  be  broken  by  the  high  wind 
and  thus  the  sound  of  the  hunter's  approach  is  less  likely  to  be 
heard,  the  eddying  currents  of  air  are  then  more  apt  to  carry 
the  hunter's  scent  to  the  moose  regardless  of  the  fact  that  his 
approach  may  be  faultless. 

"Also,  my  son,  you  must  be  careful  not  to  disturb  the  httle 
tell-tale  creatures  of  the  woods  or  success  that  seems  so  near 
may  vanish  in  a  moment;  for  a  raven  may  fly  overhead,  and 
spying  you,  circle  about — just  as  the  pigeons  used  to  do — 
and  then  crying  out  may  warn  the  moose  of  your  presence. 
Or  you  may  flush  a  partridge;  or  a  squirrel,  taking  fright, 
may  rush  up  a  tree  and  begin  chattering  about  you;  or  a  rabbit 


224  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

may  go  druimning  into  a  thicket,  and  the  moose,  reading  these 
signs  of  alarm,  will  surely  look  about  to  learn  the  cause. 

"But,  my  son,  should  you  spy  a  moose  lying  down,  it  is 
rather  risky  to  fire  at  it  in  that  position,  as  it  is  then  hard  to  hit 
a  vital  spot.  The  better  way  is  to  stand  with  cocked  gun 
covering  the  game,  and  then  break  a  twig — not  too  sharply 
though,  or  you  may  scare  away  your  quarry.  Watch  its  ears: 
if  they  flop  back  and  forward,  it  has  heard  nothing,  but  if  both 
ears  point  in  your  direction,  keep  still  and  be  ready,  for  it  has 
heard  you,  and  now  with  one  great  spring  it  may  disappear 
into  a  thicket.  Instead  of  breaking  a  twig,  some  hunters  prefer 
to  whistle  like  a  startled  rabbit  while  other  hunters  prefer  to 
speak  to  the  moose  in  a  gentle  voice,  always  taking  care  to  use 
none  but  kindly  words,  such  as  for  instance:  *0h,  my  lazy 
brother,  I  see  you  are  sleeping  long  this  morning.' 

"For  we  Indians  never  speak  harshly  to  so  good  an  animal, 
nor  do  we  ever  use  bad  words,  as  bad  words  always  bring  bad 
luck  to  the  hunter. 

"In  winter,  my  son,  a  moose  makes  much  noise  in  walking 
and  feeding,  for  then  he  often  breaks  off  the  tops  of  Httle  trees — 
though  some  of  the  trimks  may  be  as  thick  as  a  man's  arm. 
The  moose  breaks  down  trees  of  such  a  size  by  placing  his  big 
shoulder  against  it,  and  curving  his  powerful  neck  round  it,  and 
then  bending  it  over  with  his  massive  head.  Then,  too,  he  often 
rides  down  small  trees,  such  as  birch  or  poplars,  just  by  strad- 
dling his  fore  legs  about  them  and  using  his  chest  to  force  them 
over. 

"In  shooting  a  moose,  remember  the  best  spot  is  just  behind 
the  shoulder,  and  while  the  next  best  is  in  the  kidneys,  the  head 
is  not  a  good  shot  for  a  smooth-bore  gun,  for  bone  often  deflects  a 
round  ball.  A  good  hunter  always  tries  to  get  a  clear  view  of 
his  quarry,  for  even  a  twig  may  deflect  his  bullet.  And  re- 
member, too,  my  son,  that  as  a  rule,  when  coming  upon  a  fresh 
track,  it  is  wiser  to  back-track  it  than  to  follow  it  up  at  once. 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  225 

as  back-tracking  will  provide  the  hunter  with  about  all  the 
information  he  may  require,  as  the  back  trail  will  tell  him  if  the 
game  was  traveUing  fast  or  slow,  whether  it  was  fleeing  in 
fright  or  feeding;  and  if  feeding,  whether  it  was  feeding  quietly 
or  in  haste;  and  if  in  haste,  the  twigs  would  be  torn  oflf  instead  of 
being  clean  cut.  Sometimes  a  good  hunter  will  back-track  a 
trail  several  miles  in  order  to  assure  the  success  of  his  hunt. 

"  My  son,  if  a  moose  is  badly  frightened  by  man-smell  it  may 
at  first  go  off  on  the  gallop  and  then  settle  down  to  a  steady  trot 
for  four  or  five  miles  before  it  stops  to  hsten — ^but  not  to  feed. 
Then,  turning  its  head  this  way  and  that,  and  even  trembUng 
with  excitement,  as  it  throws  its  snout  into  the  air,  to  test  if 
danger  is  still  following,  it  may  then  start  off  again  on  another 
long  trot,  but  all  the  time  it  will,  as  much  as  possible,  avoid  open 
places.  Later  it  may  attempt  to  feed  by  tearing  off  twigs  as 
it  hurries  along,  and  then  at  last  it  will  circle  to  leeward  and 
finally  rest  not  far  from  its  old  trail.  Under  such  conditions, 
the  distance  a  moose  travels  depends  largely  upon  the  depth  of 
the  snow.  Two  or  three  feet  of  snow  will  not  hamper  it  much, 
but  when  the  depth  is  four  feet,  or  when  the  moose's  belly  begins 
to  drag  in  the  snow,  the  brute  will  not  travel  far.  An  old  bull 
will  not  run  as  far  as  a  young  one,  and  a  cow  will  not  travel  as 
far  as  a  bull;  but  when  tired  out  a  moose  sleeps  soundly,  so 
soundly,  indeed,  that  a  hunter  can  easily  approach  as  close 
as  he  pleases.  But  don't  forget,  my  son,  that  a  good  hunter 
never  runs  a  moose — at  least,  not  unless  he  is  starving — as 
running  a  moose  spoils  the  meat. 

"  Sometimes,  my  son,  a  hunter  may  use  a  dog  to  trail  a  moose, 
but  it  is  dangerous  work  for  the  dog,  as  the  moose  may  turn  at 
bay  and  strike  at  the  dog  with  any  one  of  its  chisel-like  hoofs 
or  may  even  seize  the  dog  by  the  back  in  its  mouth,  carry  it  for 
a  httle  way,  then  throw  it  into  the  air  and  when  it  falls  trample 
it  to  death.  So,  my  son,  when  hunting  moose  in  that  way,  it 
is  best  to  have  two  dogs  or  more,  as  then  one  dog  may  attack 


226  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

while  another  is  being  pursued.  But  I  warn  you,  if  you  are  in 
pursuit  of  a  moose  and  if  he  turns  at  bay  for  the  first  time  .  .  . 
look  out  ...  for  then  he  wiU  surely  attack  you;  if,  how- 
ever, he  turns  at  bay  through  sheer  exhaustion  or  from  over- 
whelming pain,  he  wiQ  not  always  fight;  but  under  the  first 
condition,  the  hunter  is  a  fool  if  he  approaches  within  ten  paces 
of  a  bayed  moose." 

*  THE   owl"   makes  A  KILL 

Rising  early  next  morning  we  made  a  very  small  fire  to  cook 
our  breakfast  and  were  ready  to  start  as  soon  as  dawn  came  to 
light  us  on  our  way.  Oo-koo-hoo  took  great  care  in  loading  his 
gun  as  he  expected  to  come  upon  moose  at  any  time.  He 
placed  a  patch  of  cotton  about  the  ball  before  ramming  it  in, 
and  made  sure  that  the  powder  showed  in  the  nipple  before 
putting  on  the  percussion  cap.  And  as  he  took  his  fire-steel 
and  whetted  a  keener  edge  upon  his  knife,  a  smile  of  hunter's 
contentment  overspread  his  face,  because  he  well  knew  how 
soon  he  was  to  use  the  blade.  That  morning  he  did  not  fight  his 
pipe  as  usual  because,  as  he  explained,  he  wanted  to  have  his 
wits  about  him;  furthermore,  he  did  not  wish  to  add  to  the 
strength  of  his  man-smell;  and  whispering  to  me  he  added  with 
a  smile: 

l%"My  son,  when  I  smell  some  men,  especially  some  white 
men,  I  never  blame  the  animals  of  the  Strong  Woods  for 
taking  fright  and  running  away." 

And  that  reminds  me  that  while  we  white  people  consider  the 
negro  the  standard-bearer  of  the  most  offensive  of  all  human 
body  smells,  the  Indiein  always  unhesitatingly  awards  the  pahn 
to  the  white  man,  and  sometimes  even  the  Indian  children  and 
babies,  when  they  get  an  unadulterated  whiff  from  a  white 
man,  wiU  take  such  fright  that  it  is  hard  for  their  mothers  to 
console  them — a  fact  that  has  often  made  me  wonder  what 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  227 

the  poor  little  tots  would  do  if  they  scented  one  of  those  highly 
painted  and  perfumed  "ladies"  that  parade  up  and  down 
Piccadilly,  Fifth  Avenue,  or  Yonge  Street? 

After  following  the  trail  for  about  fifteen  minutes,  we  came 
to  where  the  moose  had  been  lying  down,  and  the  hunter  whis- 
pered: 

"My  son,  I  am  glad  I  did  not  smoke,  but  I  am  sorry  that  we 
camped  so  near."  Then  he  added  as  he  pointed  to  the  im- 
pression of  a  moose's  body  in  the  snow:  "A  moose  seldom  lies 
twice  in  the  same  place  in  the  snow,  as  the  old  bed  would  be 
frozen  and  hard  as  well  as  dirty." 

But  as  we  had  not  made  much  noise,  nor  cut  any  big  wood 
to  make  a  fire,  he  was  hopeful  that  our  chances  were  still  good; 
and  at  sunrise  he  concluded  that  it  was  time  we  should  leave  our 
sled  behind  and  begin  to  track  om*  quarry  more  cautiously. 
From  then  on  there  was  to  be  no  talking — not  even  in  a  whis- 
per. Soon  we  came  upon  yesterday's  tracks,  then  farther  on  we 
saw  where  the  moose  had  circled  before  lying  down  again  for  the 
night,  with  their  eyes  guarding  their  front  while  their  scent 
guarded  their  rear. 

At  last  we  came  upon  still  fresher  signs  that  told  that  the 
moose  might  be  within  a  hundred  paces  or  less.  At  a  signal 
from  the  old  hunter  I  imitated  him  by  shpping  off  my  snow- 
shoes,  and  standing  them  upon  end  in  the  snow,  and  Oo-koo- 
hoo  leading  the  way,  began  to  circle  to  our  right  as  a  gentle 
wind  was  coming  on  our  left.  Now  our  progress  was  indeed 
slow,  and  also  perfectly  noiseless.  It  seemed  to  take  an  age 
to  make  a  semicircle  of  a  couple  of  hundred  paces.  Again  we 
came  upon  the  tracks  of  the  moose.  The  signs  were  now 
fresher  than  ever.  Retracing  our  own  tracks  for  a  httle  way 
we  started  on  another  circle,  but  this  time,  a  smaller  one,  for  we 
were  now  very  near  the  moose.  Silent  ages  passed,  then 
we  heard  the  swishing  of  a  pulled  branch  as  it  flew  back  into 
place;   a  few  steps  nearer  we  progressed;  then  we  heard  the 


228  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

munching  sound  of  a  large  animars  jaws.  Oo-koo-hoo  rose 
slightly  from  his  stooped  position,  peered  through  the  branches 
of  a  dense  spruce  thicket,  crouched  again,  turned  aside  for 
perhaps  twenty  paces  .  .  .  looked  up  again  .  .  . 
raised  his  gun  and  saying  in  a  gentle  voice:  "My  brother,  I 
need    .     .     ."  he  fired. 

Instantly  there  was  a  great  commotion  beyond  the  thicket, 
one  sound  running  off  among  the  trees,  while  the  other,  the 
greater  sound,  first  made  a  brittle  crash,  then  a  ponderous  thud 
as  of  a  large  object  falling  among  the  dead  under-branches. 

The  hunter  now  straightened  up  and  with  his  teeth  pulled 
the  plug  from  his  powder  horn,  poured  a  charge  into  his  gun, 
spat  a  bullet  from  his  mouth  into  the  barrel,  struck  the  butt 
violently  upon  the  palm  of  his  left  hand,  then  slipping  a  cap 
upon  the  nipple,  moved  cautiously  forward  as  he  whispered: 
"  Its  neck  must  be  broken."  Soon  we  saw  what  had  happened. 
One  moose  was  lying  dead,  the  ball  had  struck  it  in  the 
neck;  it  was  a  three-year-old  cow — the  one  Oo-koo-hoo  had 
selected — while  the  other,  a  bull,  had  left  nothing  but  its 
tracks. 

Presently  The  Owl  re-loaded  his  gim  with  greater  care,  then 
we  returned  for  our  snowshoes  and  to  recover  our  toboggan 
before  we  started  to  skin  the  carcass.  On  the  way  Oo-koo-hoo 
talked  of  moose  hunting,  and  I  questioned  him  as  to  why  he 
had  turned  aside  for  the  last  time,  just  before  he  fired,  and  he 
answered: 

"My  son,  I  did  it  so  that  in  case  I  should  miss,  the  report 
of  my  gun  would  come  from  the  right  direction  to  drive  the 
moose  toward  home  and  also  toward  our  sled;  and  in  case, 
too,  that  I  hit  the  moose  and  only  wounded  it,  the  brute  would 
run  toward  our  sled  and  not  take  us  farther  away  from  it. 
Also,  my  son,  if  I  had  merely  wounded  the  beast,  but  had  seen 
from  the  way  it  flinched  that  it  had  been  struck  in  a  vital  spot, 
■|     I  would  not  have  followed  immediately,  but  would  have  sat 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  229 

down  and  had  a  smoke,  so  as  not  to  further  disturb  the  wounded 
animal  before  it  had  time  to  bleed  to  death.  Besides,  a  mere 
glance  at  the  trail  would  tell  me  whether  or  not  I  had  mortally 
wounded  the  moose — ^whether  the  brute  was  hit  high  or  low,  and 
whether  the  blood  was  dark  or  hght.  If  hit  high,  the  blood 
would  be  upon  the  branches  as  well  as  upon  the  snow;  if  the 
blood  was  black  it  would  mean  that  an  artery  had  been  severed 
and  that  the  moose  was  mortally  wounded.  If  the  latter  had 
happened,  then  would  be  the  time  for  me  to  get  out  my  pipe 
and  have  a  smoke." 

SKINNING  ANIMALS 

As  we  were  to  be  busy  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  we  made  a 
suitable  camp  and  started  a  fire  and  by  that  time  the  moose 
had  stiffened  enough  for  proper  handling  while  removing  the 
skin.  As  usual  the  hunter's  first  act  was  to  cut  the  eyes,  then 
to  cut  off  the  head,  which  he  at  once  skinned  and,  removing  the 
tongue,  hung  the  head  beside  the  fire  to  cook  while  we  went  on 
with  our  work. 

But  while  we  propped  up  the  moose  and  got  it  into  good 
position,  three  whiskey  jacks  (Canada  Jays)  came,  as  they 
always  seem  to  come  at  the  first  sign  of  smoke,  to  pay  us  a 
visit  and  partake  of  the  feast.  They  are  fluffy,  heavily  feath- 
ered httle  birds  of  gray,  with  wings  and  tail  of  darker  hue, 
and  with  a  white  spot  on  their  forehead.  They  are  not  un- 
like the  blue  jay  in  their  calls  and  shrieks,  though  they  have 
some  notes  of  their  own  that  are  of  a  quieter,  softer  tone.  They 
are  friendly  httle  beggars  that  will  at  times  come  so  near  that 
they  may  occasionally  be  caught  in  one's  hand;  but  while 
one  likes  to  have  them  about  for  the  sake  of  their  companion- 
ship, they  will,  uninvited,  take  a  share  of  anything  that  is  good 
to  eat.  They  are  the  most  famihar  birds  to  be  seen  in  the 
winter  forest,  and  they  have  a  remarkable  way  of  laying  their 


230  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

eggs  and  nesting  in  the  month  of  Mairch  when  the  weather 
may  register  from  twenty  to  forty  below  zero. 

In  the  forest  there  are  several  different  ways  of  skinning 
animals:  one  is  called  "case  skinning"  and  another  is  called 
"split  skinning."  To  case  skin  an  animal  such  as  ermine,  fox, 
fisher,  lynx,  marten,  mink,  otter,  muskrat,  rabbit,  or  skunk, 
the  skin  is  cut  down  the  inner  side  of  each  hind  leg  until  the 
two  cuts  meet  just  under  the  tail,  and  then  the  pelt  is  peeled 
off  by  turning  it  inside  out.  To  split  skin  an  animal  such 
as  wood-buffalo,  moose,  wapiti,  caribou,  deer,  bear,  beaver, 
woff,  or  wolverine,  the  skin  is  cut  down  the  belly  from  throat 
to  tail  and  also  on  the  inside  of  each  leg  to  the  centre  cut, 
and  then  the  pelt  is  peeled  off  both  ways  toward  the  back. 
All  spht  skins  are  stretched  on  rectangular  frames — all  save 
beaver  skins  which  are  stretched  on  oval  frames.  All  case 
skins  are  stretched  over  wedge-shaped  boards  of  various  sizes — 
all  save  muskrat  skins  which  are  more  often  stretched  over  a 
hooped  frame  or  a  looped  stick.  So,  of  course,  our  moose  pelt 
was  "spHt  skinned,"  but  there  is  still  another  way  to  skin  an 
animal  that  is  too  large  for  one  man  to  turn  over,  and  that 
is — in  case  the  animal  is  lying  on  its  belly — to  spHt  the  skin 
down  the  back  and  then  peel  it  off  both  ways  toward  the 
beUy. 

If  the  skin  is  to  be  used  as  a  robe,  the  hair  is  left  on,  and  the 
animal's  brains  are  rubbed  into  the  inner  side  of  the  pelt,  after 
the  fat  has  been  removed,  and  then  the  skin  is  left  to  dry. 
That  softens  the  pelt;  but  traders  prefer  skins  to  be  sun-dried 
or  cold-dried.  If  the  skin  is  to  be  used  as  leather,  the  hair 
is  cut  off  with  a  knife,  and  a  deer's  shin-bone  is  used  as  a 
dressing  tool  in  scraping  off  the  fat;  both  sides  of  the  skin  are 
dressed  to  remove  the  outer  surface.  It  is  easier  to  dress  a 
skin  in  winter  than  in  summer,  but  summer-made  leather 
wears  better,  for  the  reason  that  the  roots  of  the  hair  run  all 
through  a  summer  skin;  whereas  in  winter  the  roots  show  only 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  231 

on  the  outer  side;  that  is  why  a  fur-trader — ^when  looking  only 
at  the  inner  side — can  tell  whether  a  skin  has  been  taken  in 
winter  or  summer.  In  dressing  leather  the  inner  side  is  rubbed 
well  with  brains  which  are  then  allowed  to  soak  in  for  three  or 
four  days;  then  the  skin  is  soaked  in  a  vessel  filled  with  water — 
but  not  in  a  river — for  about  two  days  more;  then  it  is  stretched 
again  and  let  dry,  then  scraped  with  a  bone,  shell,  or  steel 
scraper — ^if  it  is  a  moose  skin,  only  on  one  side,  but  if  it  is  a 
caribou  skin,  on  both  sides.  The  object  of  scraping  is  to 
further  soften  the  skin.  After  that,  it  is  taken  ojff  the  stretcher 
and  rubbed  together  between  the  hands  and  pulled  between 
two  people.  Then  it  is  stretched  again  and  smoked  over  a 
slow  fire  that  does  not  blaze. 

Woodsmen  hunt  moose  for  food  and  clothing.  Townsmen 
hunt  moose  for  the  satisfaction  of  killing.  But  should  the 
townsman  fail  in  his  hunt,  he  may  hire  a  native  "Head  Hun- 
ter"  to  secure  a  head  for  him;  and  that  reminds  me  of  one  night 
during  the  early  winter,  when  a  strange  apparition  was  seen 
crossing  the  lake.  It  appeared  to  have  wings,  but  it  did  not 
fly,  and  though  it  possessed  a  tail,  it  did  not  run,  but  contented 
itself  with  moving  steadily  forward  on  its  long,  up-turned  feet. 
Over  an  arm  it  carried  what  might  have  been  a  trident,  and 
what  with  its  waving  tail  and  great  outspreading  wings  that 
rose  above  its  horned-like  head,  it  suggested  that  nothing  less 
than  Old  Beelzebub  himself  had  come  from  his  flaming  region 
beyond  to  cool  himself  on  the  snow-covered  lake.  But  in 
reahty  it  was  just  Oo-koo-hoo  returning  with  a  fine  pair  of 
moose  horns  upon  his  back,  and  which  he  counted  on  turning 
over  to  the  trader  for  some  city  sportsman  who  would  readily 
pahn  it  off  as  a  trophy  that  had  faUen  to  his  unerring  aim,  and 
which  he  had  brought  down,  too,  with  but  a  single  shot  .  .  . 
of $25. 

While  at  work  I  recaUed  how  Oo-koo-hoo  had  surmised, 
before  be  had  examined  the  carcass,  that  he  had  broken  the 


232  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

moose's  neck  with  his  ball,  and  on  questioning  him  as  to  how  he 
knew,  he  repUed: 

"My  son,  if  an  animal  is  hit  in  the  neck  and  the  neck  is 
broken,  the  beast  will  collapse  right  where  it  is;  but  if  hit  in  the 
heart,  it  will  lunge  forward;  if  hit  in  the  nose,  it  will  rear  up; 
if  hit  in  the  spine,  it  will  leap  into  the  air.  Yes,  my  son,  I 
have  seen  a  great  bull  buffalo  leap  lynx-like,  into  the  air, 
when  it  was  struck  in  the  spine." 

Knowing  that  the  hunter  had  wanted  to  procure  more  than 
one  moose  I  asked  him  why  he  had  not  at  once  pursued  the 
other?    And  he  explained : 

"For  two  reasons,  my  son:  first,  because  I  don't  want  a  bull, 
I  want  the  tenderer  meat  and  the  softer  skin  of  a  cow;  and 
secondly,  even  if  I  had  wanted  him,  I  would  not  have  pursued 
him  at  once  as  that  would  cause  him  to  run.  If  a  moose  is 
pinrsued  on  the  run,  it  overheats,  and  that  spoils  the  meat, 
because  the  moose  is  naturally  a  rather  inactive  animal  that 
lives  on  a  small  range  and  travels  very  Uttle;  but  it  is  quite 
different  with  the  caribou,  for  the  caribou  is  naturally  an  active 
animal,  a  great  traveller,  that  wanders  far  for  its  food,  and  to 
pursue  it  on  the  run  only  improves  the  flavour  and  the  texture 
of  its  meat." 

OLD-TIME  HUNTING 

After  supper,  as  we  sat  in  the  comfortable  glow  of  the  fire, 
we  talked  much  of  old-time  hunting,  for  in  certain  parts  of  the 
Great  Northern  Forest  many  of  the  ancient  methods  are 
practised  to-day.  Fire  is  often  made  by  friction ;  many  hunters 
still  use  the  bow  and  arrow,  while  others  use  the  flintlock  gun; 
frequently,  too,  they  rely  upon  their  spears;  bone  knives  and 
awls  as  well  as  stone  axes  are  still  applied  to  work;  fish  nets  are 
yet  woven  from  the  inner  bark  of  cedar;  and  still  to-day  wooden 
baskets  and  birch-bark  rogans  are  used  for  the  purpose  of  heat- 
ing water  and  boiling  food.    Notwithstanding  our  far  over- 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  233 

rated  civilization  the  natives  in  some  sections  are  dressed  to-day 
in  clothing  entirely  derived  from  the  forest. 

One  of  the  most  ancient  methods  of  hunting  and  one  which 
is  still  in  vogue  in  some  remote  localities  is  the  "drive."  Two 
famous  places  for  drive  hunting  in  olden  days  were  Point 
Carcajou  on  Peace  River,  and  the  Grand  Detour  on  Great 
Slave  River.  The  former  driving  ground  was  about  thirty 
miles  long  by  about  three  miles  across,  while  the  latter  was 
about  fifteen  miles  long  by  about  three  miles  across.  The 
mode  of  hunting  was  for  a  party  of  Indians  to  spread  out 
through  the  woods,  and  all,  at  an  appointed  time,  to  move  for- 
ward toward  a  certain  point,  and  thus  drive  the  game  before 
them,  until  the  animals,  on  coming  out  into  the  open  at  the 
other  end,  were  attacked  by  men  in  ambush.  At  those  driving 
grounds  in  the  right  season — even  if  a  drive  of  only  a  few  miles 
were  made — the  Indians  could  count  on  securing  two  or  three 
bears,  three  or  four  moose,  and  twelve  or  fifteen  caribou.  But 
in  later  years,  a  number  of  the  drivers  having  been  accidentally 
shot  from  ambush,  the  practice  has  been  discontinued  in  those 
localities. 

THE  BEAR  IN  HIS  WASH 

It  is  not  an  uncommon  occurrence  for  a  hunter,  when  travel- 
ling through  the  winter  woods,  to  discover  the  place  where  a 
bear  is  hibernating;  the  secret  being  given  away  by  the 
condensed  breath  of  the  brute  forming  hoar  frost  about  the  im- 
perfectly blocked  entrance  to  the  wash.  The  Indians'  hunting 
dogs  are  experts  at  finding  such  hidden  treasure,  and  when  they 
do  locate  such  a  claim,  they  do  their  best  to  acquaint  their 
master  of  the  fact. 

One  day  when  Oo-koo-hoo  was  snowshoeing  across  a  beaver 
meadow,  his  dogs,  having  gained  the  wooded  slope  beyond, 
began  racing  about  as  though  they  had  scented  game  and 
were  trying  to  connect  a  broken  trail.    So  The  Owl  got  out  his 


234  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

pipe  and  sat  down  to  have  a  smoke  while  his  dogs  were  busily 
engaged.  Presently  they  centred  on  a  certain  spot,  and 
Oo-koo-hoo,  going  over,  discovered  the  tell-tale  hoar  frost. 
Twisting  out  of  his  snowshoes — ^for  an  Indian  never  has  to 
touch  his  hands  to  them  when  he  puts  them  on  or  takes  them 
off — ^he  used  one  of  them  for  a  shovel,  and  digging  away  the 
snow,  he  came  upon  a  bear's  wash.  It  was  quite  a  cave  and 
dark  inside,  and  as  the  dogs  refused  to  enter,  the  hunter  crawled 
into  the  entrance  and  reaching  in  as  far  as  he  could  with  his 
hand,  felt  the  forms  of  two  bears.  Making  sure  of  the  exact 
position  of  the  head  of  one  of  them,  he  then  shoved  his  gun 
in  until  the  muzzle  was  close  to  the  ear  of  one  of  the  bears 
and  then  he  fired.  The  explosion  aroused  the  other  bear  and 
as  it  crawled  out  Oo-koo-hoo  killed  it  with  his  axe.  The  latter 
was  a  brown  bear  while  the  former  was  a  black. 

When  a  bear  in  his  den  shows  fight  and  threatens  danger, 
the  hunter  may  wedge  two  crossed  poles  against  the  opening 
of  the  wash,  leaving  only  enough  space  for  the  brute  to  squeeze 
through  and  thus  prevent  it  from  making  a  sudden  rush. 
Then  when  the  bear  does  try  to  come  out,  the  hunter,  standing 
over  the  opening,  kills  it  with  the  back  of  his  axe.  Sometimes 
a  second  hole  is  dug  in  order  to  prod  the  beast  with  a  pole  to 
make  it  leave  its  den.  The  white  hunter  frequently  uses  fire 
to  smoke  a  bear  out,  but  not  infrequently  he  succeeds  in  ruin- 
ing the  coat  by  singeing  the  hair.  It  requires  more  skill,  how- 
ever, to  find  a  bear's  wash  than  it  does  to  kill  him  in  his  den. 
The  Indians  hunt  for  bear  washes  in  the  vicinity  of  good  fishing 
grounds  or  in  a  district  where  berries  have  been  plentiful. 

One  winter  when  I  happened  to  be  spending  a  few  days 
at  Brunswick  House  an  old  Indian  woman  came  to  call  upon 
the  Hudson's  Bay  trader's  wife,  and,  while  she  was  having 
afternoon  tea,  she  casually  remarked  that  while  on  her  way 
to  the  Post  she  had  espied  a  bear  wash.  Digging  down  into 
its  den  with  one  of  her  snowshoes,  she  had  killed  the  brute  with 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  235 

her  axe,  and  if  the  other  guests  would  care  to  see  her  prize, 
it  was  lying  on  her  sled,  just  outside  the  door.  What  a  con- 
trast to  the  way  the  Wild  West  movie  actors  would  have  done 
the  deadly  work  with  the  aid  of  all  their  absurd  artillery! 
Nevertheless,  that  kindly  spoken,  smiling-faced,  motherly  old 
lady,  did  the  deed  with  nothing  but  her  little  axe. 

But  while  the  men  of  the  wilderness  laugh  over  the  serious 
drivel  of  most  fiction  writers  who  make  a  specialty  of  northern 
tales,  nothing  is  so  supremely  ludicrous  as  the  attempts  made 
by  the  average  movie  director  to  depict  northern  life  in  Canada. 
Never  have  I  seen  a  photoplay  that  truthfully  illustrated  north- 
em  Canadian  life. 

THE   WOLVERINE   AND   GILL  NET 

Next  day  we  again  set  out  on  a  moose  trail,  but,  as  iU  luck 
followed  us  in  the  way  of  a  heavy  snowstorm,  we  gave  up  the 
chase  and  continued  on  our  way.  It  was  hard  going  and  we 
stopped  often.  Once  we  halted  to  rest  beside  a  number  of 
otter  tracks.  Otters  leave  a  surprisingly  big  trail  for  animals 
of  their  size.  A  good  imitation  could  be  made  of  an  otter's 
trail  by  pressing  down  into  the  snow,  in  a  horizontal  position, 
a  long,  irregular  stove  pipe  of  the  usual  size.  The  reason  the 
otter's  trail  is  so  formed,  is  that  the  animal,  when  travelling 
through  deep  snow,  progresses  on  its  belly  and  propels  itself 
principally  by  its  hind  legs,  especially  when  going  down  hill. 
When  making  a  hillside  descent  an  otter  prefers  to  use  an  old, 
well-worn  track  and  ghdes  down  it  with  the  ease  and  grace 
of  a  toboggan  on  its  shde.  It  was  the  sight  of  the  otter's  trail 
that  set  Oo-koo-hoo  thinking  of  his  younger  days. 

"Years  ago,  my  son,  I  very  nearly  killed  a  man.  It  hap- 
pened at  just  such  a  place  as  this:  a  httle  lake  with  a  patch 
of  open  water  above  a  spring.  It  was  on  my  father's  hunting 
grounds,  and  late  one  afternoon,  after  passing  through  heavy 


236  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

timber,  I  came  out  upon  its  shore,  and  there  I  discovered  two 
men  robbing  one  of  my  otter  traps.  One  man  was  holding  up 
the  otter  by  the  tail  and  laughingly  commenting  on  his  gain, 
while  the  other  was  resetting  the  trap  beneath  the  ice.  I  raised 
my  gun  and  was  about  to  fire,  when  it  occurred  to  me  that, 
after  all,  a  man's  hfe  was  worth  more  than  an  otter's  skin;  so  I 
let  them  go,  and  left  it  to  the  Redcoats  (Mounted  Pohce) 
to  settle  with  them.  I  knew  them  both.  They  were  half-breeds 
from  near  Montreal,  and  were  well  learned  in  the  ways  of  the 
whites." 

But  before  setting  out  on  our  way — I  forgot  to  tell  you — ^we 
cached  our  moose  meat  in  a  tree  as  was  previously  agreed  upon 
with  old  Granny,  who,  with  the  boys,  was  to  come  and  take  it 
home;  and  in  order  to  prevent  wolverines  from  stealing  or 
spoihng  the  meat>  the  hunter  wrapped  round  the  trunk  of  the 
tree  an  old  bag  to  which  were  fastened  many  fish  hooks,  all 
with  their  barbs  pointing  downward  and  ready  to  impale  any 
creature  that  tried  to  chmb  the  tree.  Needless  to  say,  as  that 
tree  stood  alone,  no  wolverine  touched  that  meat. 

That  day  we  covered  about  twenty  miles,  and  by  the  after- 
noon of  the  second  day  we  had  arrived  at  the  lake  on  the  far 
shore  of  which  lived  Oo-koo-hoo's  sister,  Ko-ko-hay — The 
Perfect  Woman — ^with  her  daughter  and  her  son-in-law  and 
four  granddaughters.  As  we  drew  near  the  camp  we  found  the 
women  about  a  mile  from  shore  fishing  through  the  ice  for 
salmon  trout.  There  were  a  number  of  holes — each  of  which 
was  marked  by  a  spruce  bough  set  upright  in  the  snow — and 
the  fishing  was  being  done  with  hook  and  line.  The  hook 
dangling  below  the  ice  about  a  third  of  the  water's  depth, 
was  held  in  position  by  a  branch  fine  to  which  was  attached 
a  suitable  sinker.  The  trout  they  had  caught  ran  from  ten 
to  thirty  pounds  each — as  near  as  I  could  judge — and  as  the 
women  had  already  gained  a  good  haul,  they  loaded  their  catch 
upon  their  sled  and  returned  home  with  us. 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  237 

Gill  nets  are  also  used  in  the  winter  time.  They  are  strung 
under  the  ice  beneath  a  series  of  holes  by  means  of  which  the 
net  is  passed  imder  the  ice  with  the  aid  of  a  pole.  The  hnes 
being  then  secured  at  either  end,  the  net  can  be  readily  drawn 
back  and  forth  for  the  purpose  of  emptying  and  resetting.  Of 
course,  floats  and  sinkers  are  used  to  spread  the 'net  and 
keep  it  in  proper  position.  In  some  locahties — ^where  the 
water  is  muddy — ^the  nets  are  occasionally  boiled  with 
willow  bark  to  keep  them  from  being  destroyed  by 
worms. 

Gill  nets,  however,  are  frequently  injured  by  animals,  not 
only  amphibious  ones  such  as  beaver  and  otter,  but  even  by 
such  animals  as  wolverines.  Some  years  ago,  a  Yellowknife 
Indian  hunting  near  Fort  Resolution  had  an  experience  of 
that  kind.  He  having  set  a  gill  net  beneath  the  ice,  failed 
to  visit  it  for  several  days.  When,  however,  he  did  arrive,  he 
saw  that  it  had  been  tampered  with,  and  found  no  difficulty 
in  reading  the  story  in  the  snow.  A  wolverine,  happening  by 
on  a  mild  day  when  the  fishing  holes  were  open,  began  sniffing 
about  one  of  the  poles  to  which  the  end  Hnes  of  the  net  were 
secured;  then  scenting  the  smell  of  fish,  he  began  chewing  the 
pole;  and  incidentally  his  sharp  teeth  severed  the  cords  that 
held  the  net.  Then,  for  the  want  of  something  better  to  do, 
he  went  to  the  other  end,  to  which  were  attached  the  hnes 
of  the  other  end  of  the  net.  Again  scenting  fish,  he  began  to 
chew  the  second  pole,  but  this  time  finding  it  give  way,  he 
hauled  it  out  of  the  hole;  and  with  the  pole  came  part  of  the 
net;  and  with  the  net  came  a  few  fish.  In  trying  to  free  the 
fish  from  the  tangled  mesh,  he  hauled  out  more  net  which 
contained  more  fish;  then,  in  an  effort  to  feast  royally,  he  ended 
by  hauling  out  the  whole  net.  The  following  day  the  Indian 
arrived  and  reading  the  story  in  the  snow,  set  a  trap  for  the 
robber.  Again  the  wolverine  came,  but  so  did  the  hunter, 
and  much  to  his  dehght  found  the  wolverine  caught  in  the  trap. 


238  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

Such  an  incident,  indeed,  is  not  rare,  for  the  same  thing  has 
happened  in  other  parts  of  the  forest. 

"the  perfect  woman" 

The  Perfect  Woman's  daughter  was  married  to  a  half-breed  by 
the  name  of  Tastowich  and  the  four  granddaughters  were  nice- 
looking  girls  ranging  in  age  from  fourteen  to  twenty.  Though 
very  shy,  they  were  bubbhng  over  with  quiet  fim  and  I  en- 
joyed my  visit.  That  evening,  among  other  subjects,  we 
discussed  the  various  hunting  caps  worn  by  Indian  big-game 
hunters,  and  The  Perfect  Woman  offered  to  make  me  one  if  I 
could  supply  her  with  the  needed  material;  but  when  she  saw 
that  I  had  nothing  but  a  double  "four-point"  Hudson's  Bay 
blanket,  she  offered  to  make  me  a  complete  suit  from  that 
article  and  to  lend  me,  for  the  rest  of  the  winter,  a  rabbit-skin 
quilt  to  take  the  place  of  the  blanket.  I  accepted  her  kindly 
offer,  but  of  course  paid  her  for  both  the  work  and  the  quilt. 

So  the  older  women  set  to  work  with  nothing  more  modern 
in  the  way  of  tools  than  a  pair  of  scissors,  a  thimble,  and  a 
needle  and  thread;  and  by  bed  time  I  was  well  rigged  in  Indian 
fashion,  for  the  hunting  trail.  The  cap  they  made  me  was  the 
same  as  Amik  wears  in  my  picture  of  the  lynx  hunter.  The 
suit  consisted  of  a  coat  and  hip-high  leggings,  and  though  I 
have  worn  that  suit  on  many  a  winter  trip,  and  though  it  is  now 
over  twenty-five  years  old,  I  have  never  had  to  repair  their 
excellent  hand-sewing. 

When  the  work  was  finished  the  father  and  the  mother 
crawled  into  a  double  bunk  that  was  surrounded  by  a  ciu'tain; 
Ko-ko-hay  wound  herself  up  in  a  blanket  and  lay  down  upon  the 
floor,  and  Oo-koo-hoo  did  hkewise,  yet  there  were  two  bimks 
still  unoccupied.  But  I  was  informed  that  I  was  to  occupy  the 
single  one,  while  the  four  girls  were  to  sleep  in  the  big  double 
one.    As  I  had  not  had  my  clothes  off  for  several  days  and  as 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  239 

I  was  counting  on  the  pleasure  of  sleeping  in  my  night-shirt,  I 
planned  to  sit  up  late  enough  to  make  my  wish  come  true, 
though  I  knew  that  the  intended  occupants  of  those  two  bimks 
would  have  to  rely  solely  upon  darkness  to  form  a  screen,  as 
neither  bunk  was  provided  with  a  curtain.  After  a  little  while, 
however,  it  began  to  dawn  upon  me  that  the  girls  were  counting 
on  doing  the  same  thing,  for  they  made  no  move  to  leave  the 
open  fire.  But  the  Sand  Man  finally  made  them  capitulate. 
At  last,  rising  from  their  seats,  they  piled  a  lot  of  fresh  wood 
upon  the  fire,  then  climbing  into  their  big  bimk,  they  took  off 
their  shawls  and  hanging  them  from  the  rafters,  draped  them 
completely  about  their  bed.  Now  my  opportunity  had  arrived, 
and  though  the  fire  was  filling  the  one-room  log  house  with 
a  blaze  of  fight,  I  made  haste  to  discard  my  clothes — for  now 
the  older  people  were  all  sound  asleep.  In  a  few  moments  I 
was  in  the  very  act  of  sfipping  on  the  coveted  garment  when 
I  heard  a  peal  of  merriment  behind  me.  On  looking  round  I 
discovered  that  the  shawls  had  vanished  from  around  the  bunk 
and  four  merry  young  ladies,  all  in  a  row,  were  peering  at  me 
from  beneath  their  blankets  and  fairiy  shaking  their  bed  with 
laughter. 

INDIANS  AND  CIVILIZATION 

Tastowich's  home  was  built  entirely  of  wood,  deerskin,  and 
clay.  The  house  was  of  logs,  the  glassless  windows  were  of 
deerskin  parchment,  the  door-lock  and  the  door-hinges  were 
of  wood,  the  latch  string  was  of  deerskin,  the  fireplace  and 
the  chimney  were  of  clay,  the  roof  thatch  was  of  bark.  The 
abode  was  clean,  serviceable,  and  warm;  and  yet  it  was  a  house 
that  could  have  been  built  thousands  of  years  ago.  But  con- 
sider, for  instance,  Oo-koo-hoo's  comfortable  lodge;  a  similar 
dwelling,  no  doubt,  could  have  been  erected  a  million  years 
ago;  and  thus,  even  in  our  time,  the  pre-historic  still  hovers 
on  the  outskirts  of  our  flimsy  civilization.    A  civilization  that 


240  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

billions  of  human  beings  for  millions  of  years  have  been  strug- 
ghng  violently  to  gain;  and  now  after  all  that  eternal  striving 
since  the  beginning  of  time — ^what  has  been  the  great  out- 
standing gain — as  the  Indian  sees  it?  "Baldness  and  starched 
underwear  for  men,  high-heeled  shoes  and  corsets  for  women, 
and  for  both — spectacles  and  false  teeth."  Is  it  any  wonder 
the  red  man  laughs? 

But  some  of  you  will  doubt  that  the  Indian  laughs,  and  more 
of  you  will  even  doubt  whether  the  red  man  possesses  a  sense  of 
humour.  A  few  days  ago  my  Toronto  ocuhst — ^you  see  I  have 
been  justly  rewarded  for  hovering  around  civihzation — and 
I  were  discussing  Indians.  The  doctor  quoted  his  experience 
with  them.  Some  years  before  he  had  taken  a  trip  into  the 
forest  where  he  had  met  an  old  Indian  chief  whose  wife  had  had 
her  eye  injured  by  accident.  The  doctor  told  the  old  man  if 
ever  he  contemplated  taking  his  wife  to  Toronto,  to  let  the 
doctor  know  of  their  coming,  and  he  would  see  what  he  could  do 
to  repair  the  injury.  A  year  or  so  later  a  letter  arrived  from  the 
very  same  Indian  reservation.  Though  it  was  hard  to  read, 
the  doctor  made  out  that  the  Indian  intended  to  bring  his  wife 
to  Toronto  so  that  the  oculist  could  fulfil  his  promise;  but  as 
luck  would  have  it,  the  doctor  had  not  only  forgotten  the 
Indian's  name,  but  he  had  great  difficulty  in  reading  the 
signature.  After  much  study,  however,  he  decided  that  the 
old  Indian  had  signed  his  name  as  "Chief  Squirrel"  so  thus  the 
doctor  addressed  his  reply.  A  couple  of  weeks  later  the  post- 
man arrived  with  a  letter  he  was  rather  loath  to  leave  at  the 
doctor's  house.  The  oculist,  however,  on  seeing  that  it  was 
addressed  to  his  own  number  on  Bloor  Street  West,  and  that 
the  name  was  preceded  by  the  title  of  Doctor,  believed  that  it 
was  intended  for  him.  On  opening  it  he  found  it  was  from  the 
old  Indian  whom  he  had  addressed  as  "  Chief  Squirrel. "  Now, 
however,  he  reahzed  he  had  made  a  mistake  in  giving  the  red 
man  such  a  name,  for  another  glance  at  the  outside  of  the 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  241 

envelope  not  only  proved  that  the  Indian  was  indignant,  but 
that  he  also  possessed  a  sense  of  humour,  for  "Chief  Squirrel" 
had,  in  return,  addressed  the  noted  oculist  as  "Doctor 
Chipmunk." 

While  spending  a  couple  of  days  at  Tastowich's  house  the 
subject  of  himting  was  never  long  omitted  from  the  general 
conversation;  and  upon  learning  from  the  half-breed  that  cari- 
bou were  plentiful  about  a  day's  travel  to  the  westward,  noth- 
ing would  do  but  Oo-koo-hoo  must  take  that  route  on  his  re- 
turn home;  though  of  course  it  meant  many  more  miles 
to  cover.  The  excursion,  however,  was  inviting,  as  a  good 
trail  could  be  followed  all  the  way  to  the  caribou  country, 
as  the  Tastowichs  had  been  hauling  deer  meat  from  that 
region. 

By  the  evening  of  the  first  day,  as  good  fortune  would  have 
it,  we  halted  among  many  signs  of  caribou,  and  not  only  were 
fresh  caribou  tracks  to  be  seen,  but  also  those  of  wolves,  for  the 
latter  were  traihng  the  deer.  The  incident  reminded  Oo-koo- 
hoo  of  a  former  experience  which  he  told  as  we  sat  by  the  fire. 

WOLVES  RUNNING  CARIBOU 

"  It  happened  years  ago.  For  weeks,  my  son,  I  had  had  ill 
luck  and  my  family  were  starving.  For  days  I  had  hunted 
first  one  kind  of  game  and  then  another,  but  always  without 
success.  Then,  as  a  last  resort,  I  started  after  caribou,  though 
I  well  knew  that  I  should  have  to  travel  a  long  distance  before 
faUing  in  with  them.  But  in  the  end  I  was  rewarded.  The 
going  was  bad,  mostly  through  a  dense  growth  of  small  black 
spruce,  where  the  trees  stood  so  close  together  that  I  had 
difficulty  in  hauling  my  sled,  being  compelled,  at  times,  to  turn 
on  edge,  not  only  my  toboggan,  but  also  my  snowshoes,  in 
order  to  pass  between.  After  several  hours'  hard  work  the 
forest  grew  more  open  and,  about  noon  of  the  third  day,  I 


242  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

discovered  a  band  of  caribou  quietly  sunning  themselves  on  a 
large  muskeg. 

"Some  were  feeding,  others  were  lying  down,  fawns  were 
scampering  about  in  play,  and  young  bulls  were  thrusting  at 
each  other  with  their  prong-like  horns.  There  were  over  a 
hundred  in  all.  I  watched  them  for  some  time  before  I  was  dis- 
covered by  seven  young  bulls,  and  as  they  were  nearest  me, 
they  stopped  in  their  play,  left  the  others,  and  came  down  wind 
to  investigate  the  strange  two-legged  creature  that  also  wore  a 
caribou  skin. 

"With  heads  held  high  and  expanded  nostrils  quivering  in 
readiness  to  catch  scent  of  danger,  they  came  on  very  slowly 
yet  not  without  a  great  deal  of  high  stepping  and  of  prancing, 
with  a  sort  of  rhythmical  dancing  motion.  Every  now  and  then 
they  threw  their  heads  down,  then  up,  and  then  held  them  rigid 
again.  They  were  brave  enough  to  come  within  sixty  or 
seventy  paces  and  even  a  little  closer.  But  as  ill  luck  ordained, 
while  I  was  waiting  for  a  better  chance  to  bring  down  one  of 
them  with  my  old  flint-lock,  they  caught  scent  of  me,  and  sud- 
denly falling  back — almost  upon  their  haunches — as  though 
they  had  been  struck  upon  the  head,  they  wheeled  round,  then 
fled  in  alarm  to  the  main  body.  Then,  as  caribou  usually  do, 
the  whole  band  began  leaping  three  or  four  feet  into  the  air — 
much  as  they  sometimes  do  when  hit  by  a  bullet.  Then,  too, 
with  tails  up  they  swept  away  at  full  gallop  and,  entering  the 
forest  beyond,  were  lost  to  view. 

"It  was  a  great  disappointment,  my  son,  and  I  became  so 
disheartened  that  I  made  but  a  poor  attempt  to  trail  them 
that  day.  That  evening,  when  I  lay  down  to  rest  upon  the  edge 
of  a  muskeg,  the  moon  was  already  shining;  and  by  midnight 
the  cold  was  so  intense  that  the  frost-bitten  trees  went  off  with 
such  bangs  that  I  was  startled  out  of  my  slumber.  It  was  then 
that  I  discovered  a  pack  of  eight  wolves  silently  romping  about 
in  the  snow  of  the  muskeg— just  like  a  lot  of  young  dogs. 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  243 

Their  antics  interested  me  and  it  was  some  time  before  I  fell 
asleep  again. 

"In  the  morning,  though  a  heavy  rime  (frozen  mist)  was 
falling  and  though  it  was  so  thick  that  it  obliterated  the  sur- 
rounding forest,  I  set  out  again  in  search  of  game  tracks, 
and  having  crossed  the  muskeg,  not  only  found  the  tracks  of 
many  caribou,  but  learned,  too,  that  the  eight  wolves  were  now 
trailing  the  deer  in  earnest. 

"About  half  way  between  sunrise  and  midday  I  came  upon 
a  lake,  and  there  I  discovered  not  only  the  same  herd  of  caribou 
and  the  same  wolves,  but  the  deer  were  running  at  full  speed 
with  the  wolves  in  full  chase  behind  them.  My  son,  it  was  a 
fascinating  sight.  The  caribou  were  going  at  full  gallop,  cover- 
ing twenty  feet  or  more  at  a  bound,  and  all  running  at  exactly 
the  same  speed,  none  trying  to  outstrip  the  others,  for  the 
fawns,  does,  and  bucks  were  aU  compactly  bunched  together. 
It  was  as  exciting  and  as  interesting  a  sight  as  one  may  see  in 
the  Strong  Woods.  Though  the  wolves  did  not  seem  to  be 
putting  forth  their  utmost  speed,  they  nevertheless  took  care 
to  cut  every  corner,  and  thus  they  managed  to  keep  close 
behind,  while  their  long,  regular  lope  foretold  their  eventually 
overhauling  their  quarry. 

"Protected  by  a  gentle  southwest  wind  and  a  thick  screen 
of  underbrush,  I  watched  the  chase.  Three  times  the  deer 
circled  the  lake,  which  was  about  half  a  mile  in  length.  For 
safety's  sake  the  caribou  carefully  avoided  entering  the  woods, 
even  rounding  every  point  rather  than  cut  across  among  the 
trees.  On  the  fourth  round  I  saw  that  the  wolves  had  set 
their  minds  upon  running  down  a  single  deer,  for  as  they  now 
suddenly  burst  forward  at  their  top  speed,  the  herd,  sphtting 
apart,  allowed  the  wolves  to  pass  through  their  ranks.  A  few 
moments  later  an  unfortunate  doe,  emerging  in  front,  galloped 
frantically  ahead  with  the  wolves  in  hot  pursuit;  while  the 
rest  of  the  herd  slowed  down  to  a  trot,  then  to  a  walk,  and  finally 


244  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS  ^ 

halted  to  rest  in  perfect  indifference  as  to  their  companion** 
fate.  i, 

"Round  and  round  the  lake  the  frightened  creature  sped, 
with  the  determined  wolves  behind  her.  Presently,  however, 
the  wolves  one  by  one  turned  aside,  and  lay  down  to  rest, 
until  only  two  continued  the  pursuit.  But  as  the  deer  came 
round  the  lake  again  several  of  the  now-refreshed  wolves 
again  entered  the  chase,  thus  they  reheved  one  another.  The 
ill-fated  doe,  in  a  vain  hope  of  throwing  aside  her  piu"suers, 
twice  rushed  into  the  very  centre  of  the  caribou  herd;  but  it 
was  of  no  avail,  for,  as  the  wolves  relentlessly  followed  her, 
the  other  deer  wildly  scattered  away  to  a  safer  distance,  where, 
however,  they  soon  came  together  again,  and  stood  watching 
their  enemies  running  down  their  doomed  comrade.  Now 
first  one  wolf  and  then  another  took  the  lead;  closer  and  closer 
they  pressed  upon  the  exhausted  doe  whose  shortening  stride 
told  that  her  strength  was  fast  ebbing  away. 

"My  son,  perhaps  you  wonder  why  I  did  not  use  my  gun? 
I  was  out  of  range,  and,  moreover,  while  I  was  afraid  that  if  I 
ventured  out  of  the  woods  I  might  frighten  the  game  away, 
I  knew  I  had  but  to  wait  a  little  while  and  then  I  should  be  sure 
of  at  least  one  deer  without  even  firing  my  gun.  I  did  not 
have  to  wait  long.  With  a  few  tremendous  leaps  the  leading 
wolf  seized  the  doe  by  the  base  of  the  throat  and  throwing  her, 
heels  over  head,  brought  her  down. 

"Realizing  that  I  must  act  at  once,  I  rushed  out  upon  the 
lake,  but  in  my  haste  I  fell  and  broke  the  stock  off  my  gun — 
just  behind  the  hammer.  But  as  I  still  had  my  axe,  I  picked 
up  the  broken  gun,  and  charged  in  among  the  wolves  that 
now  began  to  back  away,  though  not  without  much  snarhng, 
glaring  of  angry  eyes,  and  champing  of  powerful  jaws.  As 
one  remained  too  near,  I  let  drive  at  it  with  a  charge  from  my 
almost  useless  gun;  and  though  I  missed  my  aim,  the  report 
reheved  me  of  any  further  trouble.     Cutting  up  the  deer,  I 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  245 

feasted  upon  it  for  several  hours,  then  loaded  my  sled  and  hur- 
ried home  with  the  meat  for  my  starving  family." 

There  are  three  principal  species  of  Canadian  caribou:  the 
smallest  Uving  on  the  Barren  Grounds  and  taking  their  name 
from  that  region;  the  largest  frequenting  the  Rocky  Mountains 
west  of  the  Mackenzie  River  and  known  as  Woodland  or  Moun- 
tain caribou;  and  the  intermediate  size  inhabiting  the  Great 
Northern  Forest  and  called  Woodland  caribou. 

In  comparison  with  moose,  wapiti,  and  other  deer  of  North 
America,  the  Woodland  caribou  ranks  third  in  size.  In  colour 
its  coat  is  of  a  grayish  brown  with  a  white  neck  and  belly.  In 
winter  the  heavy  growth  of  neck  hedr  really  amounts  to  a  mane. 
Of  the  three  breeds,  the  Woodland  caribou  have  the  smallest 
horns,  the  Barren  Ground  the  slenderest,  while  the  Mountain 
caribou  have  the  most  massive.  Record  antlers  range  from 
fifty-  to  sixty-inch  beams,  with  a  forty-  to  fifty-inch  spread,  and 
possessing  from  sixty  to  seventy  points.  The  does  are  usually 
provided  with  small  horns,  and  in  that  way  they  are  distinct 
from  all  other  Canadian  deer. 

On  account  of  its  wide-spreading  and  concave  hoofs  the 
Woodland  caribou  does  not  have  to  "yard"  as  other  deer  do 
in  winter  time,  for  thus  provided  with  natural  snowshoes, 
the  caribou  can  pass  over  the  deepest  snow  with  little  trouble. 
Also,  throughout  the  year  it  is  an  extensive  traveller,  and  as 
its  food  is  found  everywhere  within  its  wide  range,  its  wander- 
ings are  determined  chiefly  by  the  wind.  Indeed,  so  great  a 
traveller  is  it  that,  when  thoroughly  alarmed,  it  may  cover 
from  fifty  to  a  himdred  miles  before  settling  down  again. 
Rivers  and  lakes  do  not  hinder  its  roaming  for  it  is  a  powerful 
and  a  willing  swimmer.  The  mating  takes  place  in  October 
and  the  calves  are  bom  in  June. 

The  following  morning  while  at  breakfast  Oo-koo-hoo  dis- 
coursed upon  the  game  we  were  about  to  himt: 

"My  son,  everything  that  applies  to  hunting  the  moose, 


246  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

appKes  to  hunting  the  caribou,  except  that  the  hunter  never 
tries  to  *call'  the  caribou.  But  now  I  recollect  that  there  is 
one  thing  about  moose  hunting  that  I  forgot  to  tell  you  and  it 
apphes  also  to  hunting  the  caribou.  In  some  locahties  bar- 
riers are  still  in  use,  but  nowadays  they  seldom  make  new 
ones.  In  the  old  days  whole  tribes  used  to  take  part  in  bar- 
rier hunting  and  sometimes  the  barriers  would  stretch  for 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles  and  were  usually  made  from  one  part 
of  the  river  to  another,  and  thus  they  marked  off  the  woods 
enclosed  in  a  river's  bend.  Barriers  are  made  by  felling  trees 
in  a  Une;  or,  in  an  open  place,  or  upon  a  river  or  lake,  placing  a 
line  of  little  trees  in  the  snow  about  ten  paces  apart.  SmaU 
evergreens  with  the  butts  no  thicker  than  a  man's  thumb  were 
often  used;  yet  an  artificial  line  of  such  brush  was  enough  to 
tm*n  moose  or  caribou  and  cause  them  to  move  forward  in  a 
certain  direction  where  the  hunters  were  hiding.  Even  big 
clumps  of  moss,  placed  upon  trees,  will  produce  the  same 
effect.  Frequently,  too,  snares  for  deer  are  set  in  suitable 
places  along  the  barrier,  and  while  the  snares  are  made  of 
babiche  the  loops  are  kept  open  with  blades  of  grass. 

"There  is  still  another  thing  I  forgot  to  tell  you  about  moose 
hunting — ^my  son,  I  must  be  growing  old  when  I  forget  so  much. 
While  my  Indian  cousins  in  the  East  use  birch-bark  horns  for 
caUing  moose,  my  other  cousins  in  the  Far  North  never  do, 
yet  they  call  moose,  too,  but  in  a  different  way.  They  use 
the  shoulder  blade  of  a  deer.  Thus,  when  a  bull  is  approaching, 
the  hunter  stands  behind  a  tree  and  rubs  the  shoulder  blade 
upon  the  trunk  or  strikes  it  against  the  branches  of  a  neigh- 
bouring bush,  as  it  then  makes  a  sound  not  unlike  a  bull  thrash- 
ing his  horns  about.  Such  a  sound  makes  a  bull  beUeve  that 
another  is  approaching  and  ready  to  fight  him  for  the  posses- 
sion of  the  cow,  and  he  prepares  to  charge  his  enemy.  At 
such  a  moment  the  hunter  throws  the  shoulder  blade  into 
some  bushes  that  may  be  standing  a  Httle  way  off,  and  the 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  247 

enraged  bull,  hearing  this  last  sound,  charges  directly  for 
the  spot.    Then,  as  the  brute  passes  broadside,  the  hunter  fires. 

"But,  my  son,  to  return  to  caribou  hunting,  you  probably 
know  that  those  deer  are  very  fond  of  open  places  during  sunny 
weather  in  winter  time,  such  places  as,  for  instance,  rivers  and 
small  lakes  where  the  wind  will  not  be  strong.  There  they 
will  spend  most  of  the  day  resting  or  playing  together  in  big 
bands  of  perhaps  fifty  or  more.  Sometimes,  however,  when  a 
high  wind  springs  up,  they  have  a  curious  custom  of  all  racing 
round  in  a  circle  at  high  speed.  It  is  a  charming  sight  to 
watch  them  at  such  sport.  Most  of  their  feeding  is  done  right 
after  sunrise  and  just  before  sunset,  and  at  night  they  always 
resort  to  the  woods. 

"Then,  too,  when  caribou  go  out  upon  a  lake  they  have  a 
habit  of  lying  down  beside  the  big  ridges  that  rise  three  or  four 
feet  above  the  rest  of  the  surface,  where  the  ice  has  been  split 
apart  and  then  jammed  together  again  with  such  power  that 
the  edges  are  forced  upward.  They  lie  down  there  to  avoid 
the  wind  while  resting  in  the  sun.  There  the  hunter  sometimes 
digs  a  trench  in  the  snow  and  Hes  in  wait  for  the  unsuspecting 
deer.  When  he  shoots  one,  he  inamediately  skins  it,  but  takes 
care  to  leave  the  head  attached  to  the  skin;  then  ramming  a 
pole  into  the  head  at  the  neck,  he  drapes  the  skin  over  the  pole 
and  getting  down  on  all  fours  places  the  skin  over  his  back  and 
pretends  to  be  a  caribou.  Thus  he  will  approach  the  band, 
and  should  he  tire  of  crawHng  along  on  his  hands  and  knees 
he  will  even  lie  down  to  rest  in  sight  of  the  deer,  but  he  always 
takes  care  to  keep  down  wind.  In  such  a  guise  it  is  not  hard 
to  come  within  gun-range  of  the  band. 

"A  very  good  thing  to  carry  when  hunting  deer  in  the 
woods  is  a  bunch  of  tips  of  deer  horns,  each  about  four  inches 
long  and  all  suspended  from  the  back  of  the  hunter's  belt;  as 
the  horn  tips  will  then  tinkle  together  at  every  movement  of 
the  hunter,  and  make  a  sound  as  though  the  horns  of  a  distant 


248  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

band  of  closely  marching  caribou  were  striking  together.  In 
that  way,  my  son,  it  is  easier  to  approach,  and  when  you  are 
ready  to  fire,  look  carefully  for  a  large,  white,  fat  doe,  and  then 
let  drive  at  her;  for  bands  of  deer  are  never  led  by  bulls,  but 
always  by  does  and  usually  by  a  barren  one.  If  you  shoot  the 
leader  first,  the  chances  are  the  band  will  stand  waiting  for  one 
of  their  number  to  lead  the  way.  Remember,  too,  that  deer  are 
never  so  frightened  at  seeing  or  hearing  you  as  they  are  at 
scenting  you,  for  the  merest  whiff  of  man-smell  will  drive  them 
away.  When  they  first  scent  you  they  will  take  two  or  three 
jumps  into  the  air  with  their  heads  held  high,  their  nostrils 
extended,  and  their  eyes  peering  about;  then  swinging  roimd, 
they  will  gallop  off  and  later  settle  down  into  a  great  high- 
stepping,  distance-covering  trot  that  will  carry  them  many 
miles  away  before  they  halt.  There  is  still  another  good  way  to 
himt  caribou  on  a  lake  and  that  is  to  put  on  a  wolf  skin  and 
approach  on  all  fours,  but  it  is  not  so  successful  as  when  the 
hunter  wears  a  caribou  skin." 

TRAILING  IN  THE  SNOW 

Breakfast  over,  we  sHpped  on  our  snowshoes  and  set  out  to 
follow  a  mass  of  tracks  that  led  southward.  It  was  easy  going 
on  a  beaten  trail,  a  bhnd  man  could  have  followed  it;  and  that 
reminds  me  of  something  I  have  failed  to  tell  you  about  winter 
trailing  in  the  Northland.  In  winter,  the  men  of  the  North- 
land don't  trail  human  beings  by  scent,  they  trail  them  by  sight 
or  sometimes  by  touch.  Sight  trailing,  of  coiuse,  you  under- 
stand. Trailing  by  touch,  however,  when  not  understood  by 
the  spectator,  seems  a  marvellous  performance.  For  instance, 
when  a  husky  dog,  the  leader  of  a  sled-train,  will  come  out  of 
the  forest  and  with  his  head  held  high,  and  without  a  moment's 
hesitation,  trot  across  a  lake  that  may  be  three  or  four  miles 
wide,  upon  the  surface  of  which  the  wind  and  drifting  snow 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  249 

have  left  absolutely  no  visible  sign  of  a  trail,  and  when  that 
dog  will  cross  that  great  unbroken  expanse  and  enter  the  woods 
on  the  far  shore  exactly  where  the  trail  appears  in  sight  again, 
though  no  stick  or  stone  or  any  other  visible  thing  marks  the 
spot — it  does  seem  a  marvellous  feat.  But  it  is  done,  not  by 
sight,  sound,  or  scent,  but  by  touch — the  feel  of  the  foot.  In 
winter  time  man,  too,  follows  a  trail  in  the  same  way,  not- 
withstanding that  he  is  generally  handicapped  by  a  pair  of 
snowshoes.  Some  unseen  trails  are  not  hard  to  follow — 
even  a  blind  man  could  follow  them.     It  is  done  this  way : 

Suppose  you  come  to  a  creek  that  you  want  to  cross,  yet  you 
can  see  no  way  of  doing  it,  for  there  is  nothing  in  sight — ^neither 
log  nor  bridge — spanning  the  river.  But  suppose  someone 
tells  you  that,  though  the  water  is  so  muddy  that  you  cannot  see 
an  inch  into  it,  there  is  a  flat  log  spanning  the  creek  about  six 
inches  below  the  surface,  and  that  if  you  feel  about  with  your 
foot  you  can  find  it.  Then,  of  course,  you  would  make  your 
way  across  by  walking  on  the  unseen  log,  yet  knowing  all  the 
time  that  if  you  made  a  misstep  you  would  plunge  into  the 
stream.  You  would  do  it  by  the  feel  of  the  foot.  It  is  just 
the  same  in  following  an  unseen  trail  in  the  snow — it  hes  hard- 
packed  beneath  the  surface,  just  as  the  log  lay  imseen  in  the 
river.  What  a  pity  it  is  that  the  writers  of  northern  tales  so 
rarely  understand  the  life  they  have  made  a  specialty  of  de- 
picting. 

But  to  return  to  the  caribou  we  were  trailing,  and  also  to 
make  a  long  himt  short — for  you  now  know  most  of  the  inter- 
esting points  in  the  sport — I  must  tell  you  that  we  spent  a  full 
day  and  a  night  before  we  came  up  with  them.  And  that  night, 
too,  a  heavy  fall  of  snow  added  to  our  trouble,  but  it  made  the 
forest  more  beautiful  than  ever.  It  was  after  sunrise  when  we 
picked  up  fresh  tracks.  A  heavy  rime  was  faUing,  but  though 
it  screened  all  distant  things,  we  espied  five  caribou  that  were 
still  lingering  on  a  lake,  over  which  the  main  band  had  passed. 


250  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

They  were  east  of  us  and  were  heading  for  the  north  side  of  a 
long,  narrow  island.  As  soon  as  they  passed  behind  it,  Oo- 
koo-hoo  hurried  across  the  intervening  space,  and  ran  along  the 
southern  shore  to  head  them  off.  The  eastern  end  of  the  island 
dwindled  into  a  long  point  and  it  was  there  that  The  Owl  hoped 
to  get  a  shot.  Sure  enough  he  did,  for  he  arrived  there  ahead 
of  the  deer.  Though  he  had  lost  sight  of  them,  he  knew  they 
were  nearing  him,  for  he  could  hear  the  crunching  sound  of 
their  hoofs  in  the  frosty  snow,  and  later  he  could  even  hear  that 
strange  cHcking  sound  caused  by  the  muscular  action  of  the 
hoofs  in  walking — a  soimd  pecuHar  to  caribou. 

Oo-koo-hoo  cautiously  went  down  on  one  knee  and  there 
waited  with  his  gun  cocked  and  in  position.  The  air  was 
scarcely  moving.  Now  antlered  heads  appeared  beyond  the 
openings  between  the  snow-mantled  trees.  The  hunter,  taking 
aim,  addressed  them: 

*  *  My  brothers,  I  need  your  .  .  . "  Then  the  violent  report 
of  his  gun  shattered  the  stillness,  and  the  leader,  a  doe,  limged 
forward  a  few  paces,  staggered  upon  trembling  legs,  and  then 
sank  down  into  the  briUiantly  sunny  snow.  But  before  Oo-koo- 
hoo  could  re-load  for  a  second  shot  the  rest  of  the  httle  band 
passed  out  of  range,  and,  with  their  high-stepping,  hackney  ac- 
tion, soon  passed  out  of  sight.  So,  later  on,  with  our  sled  again 
heavily  loaded,  and  with  packs  of  meat  upon  our  backs,  we  set 
out  for  home. 

THE  MAN   WHO  HIBERNATED 

Next  morning,  soon  after  sunrise,  while  I  was  breaking  trail 
across  a  lake,  I  espied  a  log  house  in  a  little  clearing  beside  a 
large  beaver  meadow.  As  it  was  about  the  time  we  usually 
stopped  for  our  second  breakfast,  I  turned  in  the  direction  of 
the  lonely  abode.  It  was  a  small,  well-built  house,  and  with  the 
exception  of  the  spaces  at  the  two  windows  and  the  door,  was 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  251 

entirely  enclosed  by  neatly  stacked  firewood  suitable  for  a 
stove.  Beyond,  half  built  in  the  rising  ground,  stood  a  little 
log  stable,  and  near  it  a  few  cattle  were  eating  from  haystacks. 
Going  up  to  the  shack,  I  knocked  upon  the  door,  and  as  a 
voice  bade  me  enter  I  slipped  off  my  snowshoes,  pulled  the 
latch  string,  and  walked  in.  Entering  from  the  dazzhng  sun- 
light made  the  room  at  first  seem  in  darkness.  Presently, 
however,  I  regained  my  sight,  and  then  beheld  the  interior  of  a 
comfortable  little  home — the  extreme  of  neatness  and  order; 
and  then  I  saw  a  human  form  lying  beneath  the  blankets  of  a 
bunk  in  a  far  corner.  Later  I  noticed  that  two  black  eyes  be- 
neath a  shock  of  black  hair  were  smiling  a  welcome. 

"  Good  morning,"  I  greeted.  "  May  I  use  your  stove  to  cook 
breakfast?" 

"No,  sir,"  repHed  the  figure,  then  it  sat  up  in  bed,  and  I 
saw  that  it  was  a  white  man.  "  I'll  do  the  cooking  myself,  for 
you're  to  be  my  guest." 

"Thanks,"  I  returned,  "I'm  traveUing  with  an  Indian  and 
I  don't  wish  to  trouble  you;  but  if  I  may  use  your  stove  I'll 
be  much  obhged." 

"If  I  have  what  you  haven't  got,"  my  host  smiled,  "will  you 
dine  with  me?" 

"All  right,"  I  agreed. 

"Potatoes,"  he  exclaimed. 

"Good,"  I  laughed. 

"Then  sit  down,  please,  and  rest  while  I  do  the  cooking." 

Oo-koo-hoo  now  came  in  and  at  the  host's  bidding,  filled  his 
pipe  from  a  tobacco  pouch  upon  the  table. 

The  accent  of  the  stranger  suggested  that  he  was  an  English 
gentleman,  and  it  seemed  strange,  indeed,  to  discover  so  re- 
fined and  educated  a  man  hving  apparently  alone  and  vdthout 
any  special  occupation  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Great  Northern 
Forest.  Curiosity  seized  me.  Then  I  wondered — ^was  this 
the  man?     .     .     .    could  he  be  "  Son-in-law"  ? 


252  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

But  I  refrained  from  questioning  him.  So  I  talked  about  the 
woods  and  the  weather,  while  Oo-koo-hoo  brought  in  a  haunch 
of  venison  from  his  sled  and  presented  it  to  the  stranger.  But 
with  my  host's  every  action  and  word  the  mystery  grew. 

The  stove,  which  was  fireless,  stood  beside  the  bed,  and 
reaching  for  the  griddle-lifter,  my  host  removed  the  hds;  then 
picking  up  a  stick  of  pine  kindhng  from  behind  the  stove,  he 
whittled  some  shavings  and  placed  them  in  the  fire-box;  and  on 
top  of  this  he  laid  kindling  and  birch  firewood.  Then  he  re- 
placed the  hds,  struck  a  match,  and  while  the  fire  began  to 
roar,  filled  the  kettle  from  a  keg  of  water  that  stood  behind 
the  stove,  and  mind  you,  he  did  it  without  getting  out  of 
bed.  Next,  he  leant  over  the  side  of  the  bunk,  opened  a  Httle 
trap  door  in  the  floor,  reached  down  into  his  little  box-like  cellar, 
and  hauled  up  a  bag  containing  potatoes,  which  he  then  put 
in  a  pot  to  boil,  in  their  skins.  From  the  wall  he  took  a  long 
stick  with  a  crook  upon  the  end,  and  reaching  out,  hooked  the 
crook  round  the  leg  and  drew  the  table  toward  him.  Reaching 
up  to  one  of  the  three  shelves  above  his  bunk,  he  took  down  the 
necessary  dishes  and  cutlery  to  set  the  breakfast  table  for  us 
three.  While  the  potatoes  were  boihng  he  took  from  another 
shelf — the  one  upon  which  he  kept  a  few  well-chosen  books — 
a  photograph  album  and  suggested  that  I  look  it  over  while  he 
broiled  the  venison  steak  and  infused  the  tea. 

When  I  opened  the  album  and  saw  its  contents,  it  not  only 
further  excited  my  curiosity  regarding  the  personal  history  of 
my  host,  but  it  thrilled  me  with  interest,  for  never  before  or 
since  have  I  seen  an  album  that  contained  photographs  of  a 
finer-looking  or  more  distinguished  lot  of  people.  Its  pages 
contained  photographs  of  Lord  This,  General  That,  Admiral 
What's-his-name,  and  also  the  Bishop  of  I've-forgotten  and 
many  a  Sir  and  Lady,  too,  as  well  as  the  beautiful  Countess  of 
Can't-remember. 

Breakfast  was  served.    The  potatoes  were  a  treat,  the  steak 


WILD  ANIMALS  AND  MEN  253 

was  excellent,  the  tea  was  good,  and  there  we  three  sat  and  ate 
a  hearty  meal,  for  not  only  did  we  relish  the  food,  but  the 
company,  the  wit,  and  the  laughter,  too.  But  all  the  while  my 
healthy,  jovial,  handsome  host  remained  in  bed.  I  studied 
the  blankets  that  covered  his  legs — apparently  there  was 
nothing  wrong  with  that  part  of  him.  I  could  not  fathom  the 
mystery.     It  completely  nonplussed  me. 

I  glanced  round  the  room;  there  were  many  photographs  upon 
the  walls,  among  them  Cambridge  "eights"  and  "fours";  and 
sure  enough,  there  he  was,  rowing  in  those  very  crews;  and 
in  the  football  and  tennis  pictures  he  also  appeared  as  one  of 
the  best  of  them  all.  And  how  neat  and  clean  was  his  one- 
room  house!  Everything  was  in  order.  A  water  keg  be- 
hind the  stove  to  keep  the  water  from  freezing.  A  big  barrel 
by  the  door  in  which  to  turn  snow  into  water.  A  woodpUe 
across  the  end  of  the  room — enough  to  outlast  any  blizzard. 
Then  when  I  glanced  at  him  again,  I  noticed  a  crested  signet 
ring  upon  his  left  little  finger.  Breakfast  over,  smoking  be- 
gan, and  as  he  washed  the  dishes,  I  wiped  them — but  still  I 
pondered.  Then,  at  last,  I  grew  brave.  I  would  risk  it.  I 
would  ask  him : 

"Why  do  you  stay  in  bed?" 

First  he  responded  with  a  burst  of  laughter,  then  with  the 
question: 

"Why,  what's  the  use  of  getting  up.^"  and  next  with  the 
statement:  "I  stay  in  bed  all  winter  ...  or  nearly  so. 
It's  the  only  thing  to  do.  I  used  to  get  up,  and  go  for  my  mail 
occasionally  ...  at  least,  I  did  a  few  years  ago,  but  too 
many  times  I  walked  the  forty  miles  to  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company's  Flying  Post  at  Elbow  Creek  only  to  find  no  letters 
for  me  ...  so  I  chucked  it  all.  Then,  too,  the  first 
few  winters  I  was  here  I  used  to  do  a  little  shooting,  but  I  get  all 
the  game  I  want  from  the  Indians  now,  so  I  have  chucked  the 
shooting,  too.    Now  the  only  thing  that  gets  me  out  of  bed, 


254  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

or  takes  me  out  of  doors,  is  to  watch  which  way  the  wind  blows. 
Two  winters  ago,  when  I  was  away  from  here  a  week,  the  wind 
blew  steadily  from  the  north  for  five  days  or  more,  and  my 
cattle  ate  so  far  into  the  south  sides  of  the  hay  stacks  that  two 
of  the  stacks  fell  over  on  them  and  in  that  way  I  lost  five  head — 
they  were  smothered." 

Oo-koo-hoo,  knocking  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  began  to  tie 
his  coat;  apparently,  he  thought  it  was  time  we  were  going. 
I  opened  the  album  again,  and  glanced  through  it  once  more 
as  I  sat  upon  the  edge  of  my  strange  host's  bunk.  I  stopped 
my  turning  when  I  came  to  a  photograph  of  a  charming  gentle- 
woman whose  hair  was  done  in  an  old-fashioned  way  so  be- 
coming to  her  character  and  beauty.  She  must  have  been 
twenty-three.  He,  then,  was  nearing  forty.  I  thought  his 
hand  lingered  a  Httle  upon  the  page.  And  when  I  commented 
on  her  beauty,  I  fancied  his  voice  tremored  shghtly — anyway 
his  pipe  went  out. 

But  Oo-koo-hoo,  getting  up,  broke  the  silence. 

I  invited  my  still-unknown  host  to  pay  me  a  visit.  We  shook 
hands  heartily,  and  as  I  turned  to  close  the  door,  I  noticed  that 
he  had  lain  down  again,  and  had  covered  up  his  head.  As  a 
pleasant  parting  salutation — a  cheering  one  as  I  thought — I 
exclaimed: 

"Perfectly  stunning  1  .  .  .  the  most  beautiful  lot  of 
women  I  have  ever  seen!" 

And  then  from  beneath  the  bed  clothes  came — 

"Y-e-s    .     .    .     the  blighters!'' 


VII 
LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN 

HYMEN   COMES   WITH   SPRING 

"My  son,  it  is  ever  thus,  when  spring  is  on  the  way," 
miled  Oo-koo-hoo,  as  Granny  entered  with  glee  and  displayed 
a  new  deerskin  work-bag,  containing  needles,  thread,  thimble, 
and  scissors;  a  present  from  Shing-wauk — The  Little  Pine — 
Neykia's  lover. 

"Now  that  Spring  and  Love  are  going  to  hmit  together," 
fm-ther  remarked  the  Indian,  "the  snow  will  nm  away,  and  the 
ice  begin  to  tremble  when  it  hears  the  home-coming  birds 
singing  among  the  trees.  Ah,  my  son,  it  reminds  me  of  the 
days  of  my  youth,"  sighed  The  Owl,  "when  I,  too,  was  a  lover." 

"Tell  me,"  I  coaxed. 

"It  was  many  years  ago,  at  the  New  Year's  dance  at  Fort 
Perseverance  that  I  first  met  Ojistoh.  She  was  thirteen  then, 
and  as  beautiful  as  she  was  young.  .  .  .  No;  I  shall  never 
forget  those  days  .  .  .  When  she  spoke  her  voice  was  as 
gentle  as  the  whispering  south  wind,  and  when  she  ran  she 
passed  among  the  trees  as  silently  and  as  swiftly  as  a  vanishing 
dream;  but  now,"  added  Oo-koo-hoo,  with  a  sly,  teasing  glance 
at  his  wife,  "but  now  look  at  her,  my  son  .  .  .  She  is 
nothing  but  a  bundle  of  old  wrinkled  leather,  that  makes  a  noise 
like  a  she-wolf  that  has  no  mate,  and  when  she  waddles  about 
she  goes  thudding  around  on  the  spht  end  of  her  body — like  a 
rabbit  with  frozen  feet." 

But  Granny,  saying  never  a  word,  seized  the  wooden  fire- 
poker,  and   dealt  her  lord  and  master  such  a  vigorous  blow 

255 


256  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

across  the  shoulders  that  she  slew  his  chuckle  of  laughter  the 
moment  it  was  bom.  Then,  as  the  dust  settled,  silence  reigned. 
A  httle  later,  as  Granny  put  more  wood  upon  the  fire,  she 
turned  to  me  with  twinkling  eyes  and  said: 

"  My  son,  if  you  could  have  seen  the  old  loon  when  he  was 
courting  me,  it  would  have  filled  your  heart  with  laughter.  It 
is  true  he  was  always  a  loon,  for  in  those  days  Oo-koo-hoo,  the 
great  hunter,  was  even  afraid  of  his  own  shadow,  for  he  never 
dared  call  upon  me  in  dayhght,  and  even  when  he  came  sneak- 
ing round  at  night  he  always  took  good  care  that  it  was  at  a 
time  when  my  father  was  away  from  home.  Fm'thermore,  he 
always  chose  a  stormy  evening  when  the  snow  would  be  drifting 
and  thus  cover  his  trail;  and  worse  still,  when  he  came  to  court 
me  he  always  wore  women's  snowshoes;  because,  my  son,  he 
had  not  courage  enough  to  come  as  a  man." 

This  sally,  however,  only  made  Oo-koo-hoo  smile  the  more 
as  he  puffed  away  at  his  brier. 

"Did  he  always  bring  yoiu*  grandmother  a  present?"  I 
enquired. 

"No,  my  son,  not  always,  he  was  too  stingy,"  replied  the  old 
woman,  "but  he  did  once  in  a  while,  I  must  grant  him  that." 

"What  was  it?" 

"Oh,  just  a  few  coils  of  tripe." 

But  Granny,  of  course,  was  joking,  that  was  why  she  did  not 
explain  that  deer  tripe  filled  with  blood  was  as  great  a  delicacy 
as  a  suitor  could  offer  his  prospective  grandmother-in-law; 
for  among  certain  forest  tribes,  it  is  the  custom  that  a  marriage- 
able daughter  leaves  the  lodge  of  her  parents  and  takes  up  her 
abode  with  her  grandmother — that  is,  if  the  old  lady  is  living 
within  reasonable  distance. 

Shing-wauk — ^The  Little  Pine — had  come  that  day,  and  had 
been  invited  to  sleep  in  Amik's  tepee;  yet  he  spent  the  greater 
part  of  his  time  sitting  with  Neykia  in  her  grandmother's  lodge. 
As  there  are  no  cozy  comers  in  a  tepee,  it  is  the  Ojibway  custom 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  257 

for  a  lover  to  converse  with  his  sweetheart  under  cover  of  a 
blanket  which  screens  the  lovers  from  the  gaze  of  the  other 
occupants  of  the  lodge.  Early  in  the  evening  the  blanket 
always  hung  in  a  dignified  way,  as  though  draped  over  a 
couple  of  posts  set  a  few  feet  apart.  Later,  however,  the  posts 
frequently  lost  their  balance  and  swayed  about  in  such  a  way 
as  to  come  dangerously  near  coUiding.  Then,  if  the  old  grand- 
mother did  not  speak  or  make  a  stir,  the  blanket  would  some- 
times show  that  one  support  had  given  away.  Accordingly, 
the  old  woman  was  able  to  judge  by  the  general  contour  of  the 
blanket  just  how  the  comtship  was  progressing,  and  being  a 
foxy  old  dame  she  occasionally  pretended  to  snore  just  to  see 
what  might  happen. 

One  night,  however.  Granny's  snoring  was  no  longer  pre- 
tense, and  when  she  woke  up  from  her  nap,  she  found 
that  both  supports  of  the  blanket  were  in  inamediate  danger  of 
collapsing.  Seizing  the  stick  with  which  she  used  to  poke  the 
fire,  she  leaped  up  and  belaboured  the  blanket  so  severely  that 
it  lost  no  time  in  recovering  its  proper  form. 

Kissa  Pesim  (The  Old  Moon) — February,  and  Mikesewe  Pesim 
(The  Eagle  Moon) — March,  had  flown  and  now  Niske  Pesim, 
(The  Goose  Moon) — ^April,  had  arrived;  and  with  it  had  come 
the  advance  guard  of  a  few  of  those  numerous  legions  of  migra- 
tory birds  and  fowls  that  are  merely  winter  visitors  to  the 
United  States,  Mexico,  and  South  America;  while  Canada  is 
their  real  home — the  place  where  they  were  bom.  Next 
would  follow  Ayeke  Pesim  (the  Frog  Moon)  of  May,  when 
love  would  be  in  full  play;  then  a  Uttle  later  would  come  Wawe 
Pesim  (The  Egg  Moon)  otherwise  June,  when  the  lovers  would 
be  living  together — or  nesting. 

Yes,  truly,  the  long-tarrying  but  wonderous  Goose  Moon 
had  at  last  arrived,  and  at  last,  too,  the  spring  hunt  was  on. 
It  was  now  a  joyous  season  accompanied  with  charming  music 
rendered  by  the  feathered  creatures.    Overhead  the  geese 


258  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

where  honking,  out  upon  the  lake  the  loons  were  calling,  near 
the  shore  the  ducks  were  quacking,  while  all  through  the 
woods  the  smaller  birds  were  singing.  Now,  even  among 
the  shadows,  the  snow  was  shnking  away;  while  the  river  ice, 
plunging  along  with  a  roar,  ran  down  to  the  lake  where  it 
rested  quietly  in  a  space  of  open  water. 

Now,  too,  it  so  happened  that  day,  that  Neykia,  she  of  wood- 
land grace  and  beauty,  was  strolling  in  the  sunshine  with  her 
Little  Pine;  while  on  every  side  the  trees  were  shaking  their 
heads  and  it  seemed  gossiping  about  the  hunting  plans  of  that 
reckless  httle  elfin  hunter.  Hymen,  who  was  hurrying  overland 
and  shooting  his  joyous  arrows  in  every  direction,  till  the  very 
air  felt  charged  with  the  whisperings  of  countless  lovers.  It 
made  me  think  of  the  shy  but  radiant  Athabasca,  and  I  won- 
dered— ^was  her  lover  with  her  now.^^ 

THE   SPRING  HUNT 

The  Indians  divide  their  annual  hunt  for  fur  into  three 
distinct  hunting  seasons:  the  fall  hunt — from  autumn  until 
Christmas ;  the  winter  hunt — ^from  New  Year's  Day  until  Easter ; 
and  the  spring  hunt — from  Easter  until  the  hunters  depart  for 
their  tribal  summer  camping  ground.  At  the  end  of  each 
hunting  season — if  the  fur-runners  have  not  traded  with  the 
hunters  and  if  the  hunter  is  not  too  far  away  from  the  post — 
he  usually  loads  upon  his  sled  the  result  of  his  fall  hunt  and 
hauls  it  to  the  Post  during  Christmas  week;  likewise  he  hauls  to 
the  Post  the  catch  of  his  winter  hunt  about  Easter  time;  while 
the  gain  from  his  spring  hunt  is  loaded  aboard  his  canoe  and 
taken  to  the  Post  the  latter  part  of  May.  Easter  time,  or  the 
end  of  the  winter  hunt,  marks  the  closing  of  the  hunting  season 
for  all  land  animals  except  bear;  and  the  renewing  of  the  hunt- 
ing season  for  bear,  beaver,  otter,  mink,  and  muskrat,  all  water 
animals  save  the  first. 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  259 

Meanwhile,  the  canoes  had  been  overhauled:  freshly  patched, 
stitched,  and  gummed,  their  thwarts  strengthened,  their  ribs 
adjusted,  and  their  bottoms  greased. 

A  few  days  later,  loading  some  traps  and  kit — among  which 
was  the  hunter's  bow  and  quiver  of  arrows — aboard  his  small 
canoe,  Oo-koo-hoo  and  I  set  out  at  sunrise  and  paddling  around 
the  western  end  of  Bear  Lake,  entered  Bear  River.  It  was  a 
cold  but  dehghtful  morning,  and  the  effect  of  the  sun  shining 
through  the  rising  mist  was  extremely  beautiful.  We  were 
going  otter-  and  muskrat-hunting;  and  as  we  descended  that 
charming  httle  stream  and  wound  about  amid  its  marshy  flats 
and  birch-  and  poplar-clad  slopes,  every  once  in  a  while  ducks 
startled  us  by  suddenly  whirring  out  of  the  mist.  Then,  when 
long  hght  lines  of  rippling  water  showed  in  the  misty  screen 
we  knew  that  they  were  nothing  but  the  wakes  of  swimming 
muskrats;  and  soon  we  ghded  into  a  colony  of  them;  but  for  the 
time  being  they  were  not  at  home — the  still-rising  spring  freshet 
had  driven  them  from  their  flooded  houses. 

The  muskrat's  httle  island  lodge  among  the  rushes  is  erected 
upon  a  foundation  of  mud  and  reeds  that  rises  about  two  feet 
before  it  protrudes  above  the  surface  of  the  water.  The  build- 
ing material,  taken  from  round  the  base,  by  its  removal  helps 
to  form  a  deep-water  moat  that  answers  as  a  further  protection 
to  the  muskrat's  home.  Upon  that  foundation  the  house  is 
built  by  piling  upon  it  more  reeds  and  mud.  Then  the  tun- 
nels are  cut  through  the  pile  from  about  the  centre  of  the 
over-water  level  down  and  out  at  one  side  of  the  under-water 
foundation,  while  upon  the  top  more  reeds  and  mud  are 
placed  to  form  the  dome-shaped  roof,  after  which  the  chamber 
inside  is  cleared.  The  apex  of  the  roof  rises  about  three  feet 
above  the  water.  In  some  locahties,  however,  muskrats  Uve 
in  dens  excavated  in  the  banks  of  rivers  or  ponds.  To  these 
dens  several  under-water  runways  lead. 

Muskrats  feed  principaUy  on  the  roots  and  stalks  of  many 


260  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

kinds  of  sub-aqueous  plants.  In  winter  time,  when  their 
pond  is  frozen  over,  and  when  they  have  to  travel  far  under 
water  to  find  their  food,  they  sometimes  make  a  point  of  keep- 
ing several  water-holes  open,  so  that  after  securing  their  food, 
they  may  rise  at  a  convenient  hole  and  eat  their  meal  without 
having  to  make  long  trips  to  their  house  for  the  purpose.  In 
order  to  keep  the  water-hole  from  freezing,  they  build  a  little 
house  of  reeds  and  mud  over  it.  Sometimes,  too,  they  store 
food  in  their  lodges,  especially  the  bulbous  roots  of  certain 
plants. 

Muskrats,  like  beavers,  use  their  tails  for  signalling  danger, 
and  when  alarm  causes  them  to  dive  they  make  a  great  noise, 
out  of  all  proportion  to  their  size.  Thus  the  greenhorn  from 
the  city  is  apt  to  take  the  muskrat's  nightly  plunges  for  the 
sound  of  deer  leaping  into  water;  and  just  in  the  same  way  does 
the  sleepless  tenderfoot  mistake  the  thudding  footfalls  of  the 
midnight  rabbit  for  those  of  moose  or  caribou  running  round 
his  tent. 

Muskrats  are  fairly  sociable  and  help  one  another  in  their 
work.  They  mate  in  April  and  their  young  are  born  about  a 
month  later.  The  Indians  claim  that  they  pair  like  the  beaver, 
and  that  the  father  helps  to  take  care  of  the  children.  The 
young  number  from  three  to  eight.  When  they  are  full  grown 
their  coats  are  dark  brown.  In  length  muskrats  measure 
about  eighteen  inches,  while  in  weight  they  run  from  a  pound 
and  a  half  to  two  pounds. 

Except  in  autumn,  their  range  is  exceedingly  small,  though 
at  that  season  they  wander  much  farther  away  from  their 
homes.  If  danger  threatens  they  are  always  ready  to  fight,  and 
they  prove  to  be  desperate  fighters,  too.  While  slow  on  land, 
they  are  swift  in  water;  and  such  excellent  divers  are  they 
that  in  that  way  they  sometimes  escape  their  greatest  enemy — 
the  mink;  though  wolves,  fishers,  foxes,  otters,  as  well  as  birds  of 
prey  and  Indians  are  always  glad  to  have  a  muskrat  for  dinner. 


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LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  261 

But  to  return  to  our  moskrat  hunt:  Oo-koo-hoo,  stringing 
his  bow  and  adjusting  an  arrow,  let  drive  at  one  of  the  little 
animals  as  it  sat  upon  some  drift-wood.  The  blunt-headed 
shaft  just  skimmed  its  back  and  sank  into  the  mud  beyond; 
the  next  arrow,  however,  bowled  the  muskrat  over;  and  in  an 
hour's  time  The  Owl  had  eleven  in  his  canoe.  When  I  ques- 
tioned him  as  to  why  he  used  such  an  ancient  weapon,  he  ex- 
plained that  a  bow  was  much  better  than  a  gun,  as  it  did  not 
frighten  the  other  muskrats  away,  also  it  did  not  injure  the  pelt 
in  the  way  shot  would  do,  and,  moreover,  ft  was  much  more 
economical. 

Occasionally  Oo-koo-hoo  would  imitate  the  call  of  the 
muskrats;  sometimes  to  arrest  their  attention,  but  more  often 
to  entice  them  within  easy  range  of  his  arrows.  If  he  killed 
them  outright  while  they  were  swimming,  they  sank  like  stones; 
but  when  only  wounded,  they  usually  swam  round  on  the  sin*- 
face  for  a  while.  Once,  however,  a  wounded  one  dived,  and, 
seizing  hold  of  a  reed,  held  on  with  its  teeth  in  order  to  escape 
its  pursuer;  Oo-koo-hoo,  nevertheless,  eventually  landed  it  in 
his  canoe. 

In  setting  steel  traps  for  them  the  himter  placed  the  traps 
either  in  the  water  or  on  the  bank  at  a  spot  where  they  were 
in  the  habit  of  going  ashore,  and  to  decoy  them  to  that  landing 
Oo-koo-hoo  rubbed  castoreum  on  the  branches  of  the  surround- 
ing bushes — just  in  the  same  way  as  he  did  for  mink  or  otter. 
Another  way  he  had  of  setting  traps  was  to  cut  a  hole  in  the 
side  of  a  muskrat's  house,  so  that  he  could  thrust  in  his  arm  and 
feel  for  the  entrance  to  the  tunnel,  then  he  would  set  a  trap 
there  and  close  up  the  hole. 

One  day  when  he  was  passing  a  muskrat  house  that  he  had 
previously  opened  for  that  purpose  and  closed  again,  he  dis- 
covered that  the  hole  was  again  open.  Thinking  that  the  newly 
added  mud  had  merely  fallen  out,  he  thrust  his  arm  into  the 
hole  to  reach  for  the  trap,  when  without  the  sUghtest  warning 


262  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

some  animal  seized  him  by  the  finger.  It  was  a  mink  that  had 
been  raiding  the  house;  and  in  the  excitement  that  followed,  the 
brute  escaped.  The  hunter,  however,  made  Httle  of  his  in- 
jury; chewing  up  a  quid  of  tobacco,  he  placed  it  over  the  wound 
and  bound  it  securely  with  a  rag  torn  from  the  tail  of  his  shirt. 
Oo-koo-hoo  explained  that  in  winter  time,  when  there  was 
little  snow,  he  often  speared  muskrats  through  the  ice.  The 
spear  point  is  usually  made  of  quarter-inch  iron  wire  and  at- 
tached to  a  seven-foot  shaft.  Much  of  the  spearing  he  did  at 
the  rats'  feeding  and  airing  places — those  httle  dome-shaped 
affairs  made  of  reeds  and  mud  that  cover  their  water-holes. 
The  hunter,  enabled  by  the  clearness  of  the  ice,  followed 
their  runways  and  traced  them  to  where  the  httle  fellows  often 
sat  inside  their  shelters.  Knowing  that  the  south  side  of  the 
shelter  is  the  thinnest  side.  The  Owl  would  drive  in  his  spear 
and  impale  the  little  dweller. 

HUNTING  THE   OTTER 

That  afternoon  Oo-koo-hoo  set  a  number  of  traps  for  otter. 
When  placed  on  land  otter  traps  are  set  as  for  fox,  though  of 
course  of  a  larger  size,  and  the  same  statement  applies  to  dead- 
falls; while  the  bait  used  for  both  kinds  of  otter  traps  is  the 
same  as  that  used  for  mink.  The  otter  is  an  unusually  playful, 
graceful,  active,  and  powerful  animal;  but  when  caught  in  a  trap 
becomes  exceedingly  vicious,  and  the  hunter  must  take  care 
lest  he  be  severely  bitten.  Oo-koo-hoo  told  me  that  on  one 
occasion,  when  he  was  himting  otters,  he  lost  his  favourite  dog. 
The  dog  was  holding  an  otter  prisoner  in  a  rocky  pocket  where 
the  water  was  shallow,  and  the  otter,  waiting  to  attack  the  dog 
when  off  guard,  at  last  got  its  chance,  seized  its  adversary  by 
the  throat,  and  that  was  the  end  of  the  dog. 

The  otter  is  not  only  easily  tamed,  but  makes  a  charming 
pet,  as  many  a  trader  has  proved;  and  it  is  one  of  the  few 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  263 

animals  that  actually  indulge  in  a  sport  or  game  for  the  sheer 
sake  of  the  thrill  it  affords.  Thus  the  otter  is  much  given  to 
the  Canadian  sports  of  tobogganing  and  "shooting  the  chute," 
but  it  does  it  without  sled  or  canoe;  and  at  all  seasons  of  the 
year  it  may  be  seen  sharing  its  favourite  sHde — sometimes 
jfifty  or  a  hundred  feet  in  length — with  its  companions.  If  in 
summer,  the  descent  is  made  on  a  grassy  or  clayey  slope  down 
which  the  animals  swiftly  ghde,  and  plunge  headlong  into  deep 
water.  If  the  sport  takes  place  on  a  clay  bank,  the  wet  coats 
of  the  otters  soon  make  the  sHde  so  slippery  that  the  descent 
is  made  at  thrilling  speed.  But  in  winter  time  the  sport  be- 
comes general,  as  then  the  snow  forms  a  more  convenient  and 
easier  surface  down  which  to  sUde.  The  otter,  though  not  a 
fast  traveller  upon  land,  is  a  master  swimmer,  and  not  only 
does  it  pursue  and  overtake  the  speckled  trout,  but  also  the 
swift  and  agile  salmon. 

Otters  den  in  the  river  or  lake  bank  and  provide  an  under- 
water entrance  to  their  home.  They  mate  in  February  and 
the  young — ^never  more  than  five,  but  more  often  two — are 
bom  in  April;  and  though  their  food  includes  flesh  and  fowl — 
muskrats,  frogs,  and  young  ducks — it  is  principally  composed 
of  fish. 

Though  slow  on  land  an  otter  often  travels  considerable 
distances,  especially  in  winter  time,  when  it  goes  roaming  in 
search  of  open  water.  If  pursued  it  has  a  protective  way  of 
diving  into  and  crawHng  swiftly  beneath  the  surface  of  the 
snow,  in  such  a  way  that  though  its  pursuer  may  run  fast,  he 
more  often  loses  his  quarry;  I  know,  because  I  have  experienced 
it. 

The  otter  not  only  has  its  thick,  oily,  dark-brown  fur  to  keep 
it  warm,  but  also  a  thick  layer  of  fat  between  its  skin  and  body; 
and  thus,  seal-like,  it  seems  to  enjoy  in  comfort  the  coldest  of 
winter  water.  Otters  measure  three  or  four  feet  in  length  and 
in  weight  run  from  fifteen  to  thirty  pounds. 


264  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

The  Indians  of  the  Strong  Woods  are  very  susperstitious 
in  relation  to  the  otter.  They  not  only  refuse  to  eat  the  flesh, 
but  they  don't  like  to  take  the  carcass  home,  always  preferring 
to  skin  it  where  it  is  caught.  Even  then  they  dislike  to  place 
the  skin  in  their  himting  bag,  but  will  drag  it  behind  them  on 
the  snow.  Also,  Indian  women  refuse  to  skin  an  otter,  as  they 
have  a  superstition  that  it  would  prevent  them  from  becom- 
ing mothers. 

One  afternoon,  when  Oo-koo-hoo  and  I  were  sitting  on  a 
high  rock  overlooking  the  rapids  on  Bear  River,  he  espied  an 
otter  ascending  the  tiu*bulent  waters  by  walking  on  the  river 
bottom.  We  watched  the  animal  for  some  time.  It  was  an 
interesting  sight,  as  it  was  evidently  hunting  for  fish  that  might 
be  resting  in  the  backwaters  behind  the  boulders.  Every 
time  it  would  ascend  the  rapids  it  would  rise  to  the  surface 
and  then  quietly  float  down  stream  in  the  sluggish,  eddying 
shore  currents  where  the  bushes  overhung  the  bank.  Then 
it  would  again  dive  and  again  make  the  ascent  by  crawhng  up 
the  river  bottom. 

"  My  son,  watch  him  closely,  for  if  he  catches  a  fish  you  will 
see  that  he  always  seizes  it  either  by  the  head  or  tail,  rarely  by 
the  middle,  as  the  fish  would  then  squirm  and  shake  so  vio- 
lently that  the  otter  would  not  like  it.  Sometimes,  too,  an 
otter  will  lie  in  wait  on  a  rock  at  the  head  of  a  rapid,  and  when 
a  fish  tries  to  ascend  to  the  upper  reach  of  the  river  by  leaping 
out  of  the  water  and  thus  avoiding  the  swift  current,  the  otter 
will  leap,  too,  and  seize  the  fish  in  mid-air.  It  is  a  thrilling 
sight  to  see  him  do  it." 

The  snow  was  going  so  rapidly  and  the  water  running  so 
freely  that  Oo-koo-hoo  felt  sure  the  bears  had  now  all  left  their 
dens,  otherwise  water  might  be  trickhng  into  their  winter  beds. 
So,  for  the  next  few  days,  the  hunter  was  busily  engaged  in 
setting  traps  for  bears,  beavers,  otters,  minks,  and  muskrats; 
and  thus  the  spring  hunt  went  steadily  on  while  the  Goose 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  265 

Moon  waned  and  then  disappeared,  and  in  its  place  the  Frog 
Moon  shone. 

LITTLE  pine's  LOVE  SONG 

One  sunny  morning,  while  I  was  strolling  along  the  beach, 
I  heard  the  sound  of  distant  drumming,  and  presently  a  youth- 
ful voice  broke  into  song.  It  was  The  Little  Pine  singing  to 
his  sweetheart. 

Now  it  was  Maytune  in  the  Northland.  Tender  grasses 
were  thrusting  their  tiny  blades  from  imder  last  year's  leaves 
and  here  and  there  the  woodland's  pale-green  carpet  was  en- 
riched with  masses  of  varying  colours  where  wild  flowers  were 
bursting  into  bloom.  Yet  the  increasing  power  of  the  sun  had 
failed  to  destroy  every  trace  of  winter— for  occasional  patches 
of  snow  were  to  be  seen  clinging  to  the  shady  sides  of  the 
steepest  hills  and  small  ice  floes  were  still  floating  in  the  lake 
below.  But  as  summer  comes  swiftly  in  the  Great  Northern 
Forest,  spring  loses  no  time  in  lingering  by  the  way.  Already 
the  restless  south  wind  was  singing  softly  to  the  "Loneland" 
of  the  glorious  days  to  come. 

The  forest  and  all  her  creatures,  hearing  the  song  of  spring 
time,  were  astir  with  joyous  life.  Among  the  whispering  trees 
the  bees  were  humming,  the  squirrels  chattering,  and  many 
kinds  of  birds  were  making  love  to  one  another. 

No  wonder  Shing-wauk — The  Little  Pine — sang  his  love 
song,  too,  for  was  not  his  heart  aflame  with  the  spring  time 
of  life?  Perched  high  among  the  branches  of  a  pine  the  youth 
was  relieving  the  monotony  of  his  drumming  by  occasionally 
chanting.  At  the  foot  of  the  thickly  wooded  hillside  upon 
which  the  pine  stood  the  indolent  waters  of  Muskrat  Creek 
meandered  toward  Bear  Lake.  On  the  bank  near  the  river's 
mouth  stood  the  lodges,  but  neither  Oo-koo-hoo  nor  Amik 
seemed  to  be  at  home;  and  the  rest  of  the  family  may  have 
been  absent,  too,  for  the  dogs  were  mounting  guard. 


266  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

Again  the  boy  beat  his  drum;  louder  and  louder  he  sang  his 
love  song  imtil  his  soft  rich  voice  broke  into  a  wail.  Presently 
the  door-skin  of  Granny's  lodge  was  gently  pushed  aside,  and 
Neykia  stepped  indolently  forth. 

Shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  the  girl  gazed  at  the  hillside, 
but  failed  to  discern  her  lover  in  the  tree  top.  She  Ustened 
awhile  and  then,  upon  hearing  once  more  the  love  song  above 
the  beating  of  the  drum,  yielded  to  the  dictates  of  her  heart 
and  began  to  climb  the  hill.  Little  Pine  saw  her  coming, 
ceased  his  drumming,  and  sHd  down  to  hide  behind  the  tree 
trunk. 

A  faintly  marked  woodland  path  led  close  by,  and  along  it 
the  maiden  was  advancing.  As  she  came  abreast  of  the  tree 
the  youth,  in  fun,  gave  a  shout,  and  the  maid — evidently 
pretending  bashful  alarm — took  to  flight. 

Though  fleet  of  foot,  she  suffered  him  to  overtake  her  soon 
and  catch  her  by  the  arm,  and  hold  her  while  she  feigned  to 
struggle  desperately  for  freedom.  That  won,  she  turned  away 
with  a  laugh,  sat  down  upon  a  bank  of  wild  flowers,  and  with 
shyly  averted  face,  began  plucking  them.  Little  Pine  sat  down 
beside  her.  A  moment  later  she  sprang  up  and  with  merry 
laughter  ran  into  the  denser  forest,  and  there,  with  her  lover 
swiftly  following  her,  disappeared  from  view. 

At  sunset  that  evening  Oo-koo-hoo  and  his  wife  sat  smoking 
beside  their  fire;  and  when  the  hermit  thrush  was  singing, 
the  whippoorwill  whippoorwilling,  the  owl  oo-koo-hooing, 
the  fox  barking,  the  bull  frog  whoo-wonking,  the  gander  honk- 
ing, the  otter  whistfing,  the  drake  quacking,  the  squirrel  chat- 
tering, the  cock  grouse  drumming,  and  the  wolf  howHng — 
each  to  his  own  chosen  mate,  the  hunter  tmrned  to  me  and 
smiled: 

"Do  you  hear  Shing-wauk  singing?" 

I  listened  more  attentively  to  the  many  mingling  love  songs 
of  the  forest  dwellers,  and  sure  enough,  away  off  along  the 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  267 

shore,  I  could  hear  Little  Pine  singing  to  his  sweetheart.     It 
was  charming. 

THE   LOVE  DANCE 

"My  son,"  sighed  Oo-koo-hoo,  "it  reminds  me  of  the  days 
when  I,  too,  was  a  boy  and  when  Ojistoh  was  a  girl,  away  back 
among  the  many  springs  of  long  ago." 

"Yes,  Nar-pim,"  smiled  Granny — ^for  an  Indian  woman 
never  calls  her  husband  by  his  name,  but  always  addresses  him 
as  Nar-pim,  which  means  "my  man." 

"Yes,  Nar-pim,  don't  you  remember  when  I  heard  that 
drimMning  away  off  among  the  trees,  and  when  I,  girl-Uke, 
pretended  I  did  not  know  what  it  meant,  but  you,  saying  never 
a  word  and  taking  me  by  the  hand,  led  me  to  the  very  spot 
where  that  handsome  Kttle  lover  was  beating  his  drimi  and 
making  love  to  so  many  sweethearts.^" 

"Yes,  I  remember  it  well,  when  I  took  httle  Ojistoh,  my 
sweetheart,  by  the  hand  and  we  hurried  to  find  the  httle  drum- 
mer." Then,  turning  to  me,  the  hunter  continued:  "My  son, 
one  never  forgets  the  days  of  his  youth,  and  well  can  I  recall 
picking  our  way  in  and  out  among  the  trees  and  undergrowth, 
tiptoeing  here  and  there  lest  our  moccasined  feet  should  break 
a  fallen  twig  and  alarm  the  drmnmer  or  the  dancers.  For  it 
was  the  love  dance  we  were  going  to  see.  As  the  drumming 
sound  increased  in  volume,  our  caution  increased,  too.  Soon 
we  deemed  it  prudent  to  go  down  upon  our  hands  and  knees 
and  thus  be  more  surely  screened  by  the  underbrush  as  we 
stealthily  approached.  Creeping  on  toward  the  sound,  slowly 
and  with  infinite  precaution,  we  discovered  that  we  were  not 
the  only  ones  going  to  the  dance:  the  whirring  of  wings  fre- 
quently rustled  overhead  as  ruffed  grouse  skimmed  past  us  in 
rapid  flight. 

"Once,  my  son,  we  felt  the  wind  from  a  hawk's  wing  swoop- 


268  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

ing  low  from  bush  to  bush,  as  though  endeavouring  to  arrive 
unheralded.  Twice  we  caught  sight  of  a  fox  silently  and  craft- 
ily steaHng  along.  Once  we  saw  a  lynx — a  soft  gray  shadow — 
slinking  through  the  undergrowth  ahead.  It  seemed  as  if  all 
the  Strong  Woods  dwellers  were  going  to  the  love  dance,  too, 
and,  I  remember,  Ojistoh  began  to  feel  afraid.  But,"  smiled 
Oo-koo-hoo,  "she  was  devoured  with  curiosity;  and,  besides, 
was  not  her  young  lover  with  herP    Why  need  she  fear? 

"When  we  came  to  the  foot  of  a  ridge  the  drumming  sounded 
very  near.  With  utmost  wariness  we  crawled  from  bush  to 
bush,  pausing  every  now  and  then,  and  crouching  low.  Then, 
judging  the  way  still  clear,  we  crawled  forward,  and  finally 
gained  the  top  of  the  ridge.  With  thumping  hearts  we  rested 
a  moment  in  a  crouching  posture,  for  we  had  at  last  arrived 
upon  the  scene.  Slowly  and  breathlessly  raising  our  heads, 
we  peered  through  the  leafy  screen  and  beheld  the  love  dance 
in  full  swing. 

"And  there,  my  son,  on  a  clear  sandy  opening  in  the  wood, 
twenty  or  thirty  partridge  hens  were  dancing  in  a  semicircle, 
in  the  centre  of  which,  perched  upon  a  rotten  log,  a  beautiful 
cock  partridge  drummed.  He  was  standing  with  his  small 
head  thrust  forward  upon  a  finely  arched  neck  which  was 
circled  by  a  handsome  outstanding  black  ruff,  fully  as  wide  as 
his  body.  His  extended  wings  grazed  his  perch,  while  his 
superb  tail  spread  out  horizontally. 

"  *Chun — chun — chun — chim — chun-nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn,'  he 
hissed  slowly  at  first,  but  with  steadily  increasing  rapidity. 
His  bill  was  open;  his  bright  eyes  were  gleaming;  his  wings  were 
beating  at  such  a  rate  that  the  forest  resounded  with  the 
prolonged  roll  of  his  drumming.  Again  and  again  he  shrilled 
his  love  call,  and  again  and  again  he  beat  his  wondrous  ac- 
companiment. Every  Httle  while  the  whirring  of  swiftly  mov- 
ing wings  was  heard  overhead  as  other  hens  flew  down  to  join 
in  the  love  dance.    To  and  fro  strutted  the  cock  bird  in  all  his 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  269 

pride  of  beauty — his  wings  trailing  upon  the  log,  his  neck 
arched  more  haughtily  than  ever,  his  ruflF  rising  above  his 
head,  and  his  handsome  fan-like  tail  extended  higher  still. 

"  Meanwhile,  my  son,  the  hens,  too,  were  strutting  up  and 
down,  and  in  and  out  among  their  rivals;  some,  with  wings 
brushing  upon  the  ground;  others,  with  a  single  wing  spread 
out,  against  which  they  frequently  kicked  the  nearest  foot  as 
they  circled  round  each  other.  A  continuous  hissing  was 
kept  up,  along  with  a  shaking  of  heads  from  side  to  side,  a 
ceremonious  bowing,  and  a  striking  of  biUs  upon  the  ground. 
But — though  the  cock  was  doing  his  best  to  dazzle  them  with 
the  display  of  his  charms — the  hens  appeared  unconscious  of 
his  presence  and  indifferent  to  his  advances. 

"There  Ojistoh  and  I  were  gazing  in  silent  admiration  at  the 
scene  before  us,  when — without  the  slightest  warning,  and  as 
though  dropped  from  the  sky — another  cock  landed  in  the 
midst  of  the  dancers.  Immediately  the  cock  of  the  dance 
rushed  at  the  intruder  and  fiercely  attacked  him. 

"But  the  newcomer  was  ready.  My  son,  you  should  have 
seen  them.  Bills  and  wings  clashed  together.  In  a  moment 
feathers  were  flying  and  blood  was  running.  But  the  hens 
never  paused  in  their  love  dance.  Again  and  again  the 
feathered  fighters  dashed  at  each  other,  only  to  drop  apart. 
Then,  facing  each  other  with  drooping  wings,  ruffled  plinnes, 
extended  necks,  lowered  heads,  and  gaping  bills,  they  would 
gasp  for  breath.  A  moment  later  they  would  spring  into  the 
air  and  strike  viciously  at  each  other  with  bill  and  wing,  then 
separate  again.  The  sand  was  soon  strewn  with  feathers  and 
sprinkled  with  blood,  yet  the  belligerents  kept  renewing  the 
deadly  conflict.  Unconcernedly,  all  the  while,  the  stupid  hens 
tripped  to  and  fro  in  the  evolutions  of  their  love  dance. 

"Already  the  intruder's  scalp  was  torn;  the  left  wing  of  the 
cock  of  the  dance  was  broken ;  and  both  were  bleeding  copiously. 
It  was  a  great  fight,  my  son,  and  the  end  was  near.    At  the 


270  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

next  rush  the  intruder  knocked  the  cock  of  the  dance  down, 
and  leaping  upon  him,  drove  his  bill  into  his  skull,  killing  him. 

"After  a  brief  rest  to  recover  breath,  the  victor  jumped 
over  his  late  rival's  body,  took  a  short  leap  into  the  air,  gave  a 
back  kick  of  contempt,  flew  up  on  the  log,  and  looked  round 
as  though  seeking  for  female  applause.  But  the  hens,  with 
apparently  never  a  thought  of  him,  still  kept  up  their  dancing. 
Presently  he,  too,  sounded  his  love  caU  and  drummed  his  ac- 
companiment. Then,  strutting  up  and  down,  he  inspected 
the  dancers.  When  he  had  made  up  his  mind  as  to  which  was 
the  belle  of  the  dance,  he  made  a  rush  for  her. 

"But,  my  son,  at  that  very  moment  a  lynx  sprang  through 
the  air,  seized  him  by  the  neck,  and  bounded  off  with  him 
among  the  bushes.  In  the  confusion  that  followed,  the  hens 
flew  away  and  I,  seizing  Ojistoh,  kissed  her.  Startled,  she 
leaped  up,  and  with  laughter  ran  away,  but  in  hot  pursuit  I 
followed  her.'* 

THE   WAYS   OF  THE  FEMALE 

"Ah,  my  son,"  commented  Granny  with  a  smile  and  a  shake 
of  her  head  as  she  drew  her  pipe  from  her  mouth,  "Nar-pim 
has  always  been  like  that  .  .  .  but  he  was  worse  in  the 
days  of  his  youth  .  .  .  fancy  him  taking  a  httle  girl  to  see 
the  love  dance    .     .     .    the  old  rabbit!" 

"The  old  rabbit  .  .  .  indeed?"  Oo-koo-hoo  questioned. 
"Why,  it  was  just  the  other  way  roimd.  It  was  you  who 
wanted  me  to  take  you  there;  it  was  your  hypocritical  pretence 
of  innocence  that  made  me  do  it;  and  though,  as  you  said,  I 
took  your  hand,  it  was  you  who  was  always  leading  the  way." 

Then  was  renewed  the  ancient  and  never-settled  question 
as  to  who  was  at  fault,  the  old  Adam  or  the  old  Eve;  but  as 
Granny  usually  got  the  better  of  it  by  adding  the  last  word, 
Oo-koo-hoo  turned  to  me  in  disgust  and  grunted: 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  271 

"Listen  to  her  .  .  .  why,  my  son,  it  has  always  been 
the  female  that  did  the  courting  ...  all  down  through 
the  Great,  Great  Long  Ago,  it  has  ever  been  thus  .  .  .  and 
so  it  is  to-day.  Look  at  the  cow  of  the  moose,  the  doe  of  the 
deer,  the  she  of  the  lynx,  the  female  of  the  wolf,  the  she  of  the 
bear,  the  goose,  the  duck,  the  hen,  and  the  female  of  the 
rabbit.  What  do  they  do  when  they  want  a  mate?  .  .  . 
They  bellow  and  run,  they  meow  and  bow,  they  howl  and 
prance,  they  twitter  and  dance  .  .  .  just  as  women  have 
always  done.  And  when  the  male  comes,  what  does  the  female 
do?  She  pretends  indifference,  she  feigns  innocence,  she  runs 
away,  and  stops  to  Usten,  afraid  lest  she  has  run  too  far;  and  then, 
if  he  does  not  follow,  she  comes  deceitfully  back  again  and  pre- 
tends not  even  to  see  him.  Remember,  my  son,  that  though 
the  female  always  runs  away,  she  never  rims  so  fast  that  she 
couldn't  run  faster;  and  it  makes  no  difference  whether  the 
female  has  wings  or  fins,  flippers  or  feet,  it  is  all  the  same  .  .  . 
the  female  always  does  the  courting." 

No  doubt,  had  they  ever  met,  Oo-koo-hoo  and  George  Ber- 
nard Shaw  would  have  become  fast  friends;  for  George,  too, 
insists  on  the  very  same  thing.  But  does  not  the  average  man, 
from  his  great  store  of  conceit,  draw  the  flattering  inference 
that  it  is  he  and  he  alone  who  does  the  courting,  and  that  his 
success  is  entirely  due  to  his  wonderful  display  of  physical  and 
mental  charm ;  while  the  average  woman  looks  in  her  mirror  and 
laughs  in  her  sleeve — less  gown. 

Though  for  some  time  silence  filled  the  tepee  and  the  dogs 
were  asleep  beside  the  door,  the  pipes  still  glowed;  and  Oo-koo- 
hoo,  stirring  the  fire,  mused  aloud: 

"But,  perhaps,  my  son,  you  wonder  why  the  hen  partridges 
dance  that  way  and  why  the  cock  drums  his  accompaniment?" 

"It  does  seem  strange,"  I  rephed. 

"But  not,  my  son,  if  you  know  their  history.  It  is  an  old, 
old  story,  and  it  began  away  back  m  the  Great,  Great,  Long 


272  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

Ago,  even  before  it  was  the  custom  of  our  people  to  marry.  It 
happened  this  way:  Once  there  was  an  old  chief  who  used 
oftentimes  to  go  away  alone  into  the  woods  and  mount  upon  a 
high  rock  and  sing  his  hunting  songs  and  beat  his  drum.  Since 
he  was  much  in  f  avom*,  many  women  would  come  and  hsten  to 
his  songs;  also,  they  would  dance  before  him — to  attract  his 
attention. 

"Now  it  came  to  pass  on  a  certain  day  that  a  young  chief 
of  another  tribe  happened  by  chance  upon  that  way.  Hearing 
the  drumming,  he  resolved  to  find  out  what  it  was  about.  Deep 
into  the  heart  of  the  wood  he  followed  the  sound  and  came 
upon  an  open  glade  wherein  were  many  women  dancing  before 
a  huge  boulder.  Wondering,  with  great  admiration,  the  young 
chief  gazed  upon  their  graceful  movements  and  comely  figures, 
and  determined  to  rush  in  and  capture  the  most  beautiful  of 
them.  Turning  thought  into  act,  he  bounded  in  among  the 
dancers,  and,  to  his  amazement,  discovered  the  old  chief,  who, 
at  sight  of  him,  dropped  his  drum,  grasped  his  war  club,  and 
leaping  down  from  his  rocky  eminence,  rushed  upon  the  young 
interloper  in  a  frenzy  of  jealous  fury.  The  women  made  no 
outcry;  for,  like  the  female  moose  or  caribou,  they  love  the 
victor.  So  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  men's  hard  breathing 
and  the  clashing  of  their  war  clubs,  they  went  unconcernedly 
on  with  their  love  dance.  In  the  end  the  young  chief  slew  the 
older  one,  and  departed  in  triumph  with  the  women.  But, 
my  son,  when  the  Master  of  Life  learned  what  had  happened, 
he  was  exceeding  wroth;  insomuch  that  he  tiuned  the  young 
chief  and  the  women  into  partridges.  That  is  why  the  part- 
ridges dance  the  love  dance  even  to  this  day." 

HUNTING  WILD  FOWL 

Next  morning,  while  Oo-koo-hoo  was  examining  a  muskrat 
lodge  from  his  canoe,  he  heard  a  sudden  "honk,  honk,"  and 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  273 

looking  up  he  espied  two  Canada  geese  flying  low  and  straight 
toward  us;  seizing  his  gun,  he  up  with  it  and  let  drive  at  one 
of  the  geese  as  it  was  passing  beyond  him,  and  brought  it  down. 
He  concluded  that  they  had  just  arrived  from  the  south  and 
were  seeking  a  place  to  feed.  Later,  we  encountered  at  close 
range  several  more  and  the  hunter  secured  another. 

As  they  were  the  first  geese  he  had  killed  that  season,  he 
did  not  allow  the  women  to  touch  them,  but  according  to  the 
Indian  custom,  dressed  and  cooked  them  himself;  also,  at 
supper  time,  he  gave  all  the  flesh  to  the  rest  of  us,  and  saved  for 
himself  nothing  but  the  part  from  which  the  eggs  came.  Further, 
he  cautioned  us  not  to  laugh  or  talk  while  eating  the  geese, 
otherwise  their  spirits  would  be  offended  and  he  would  have 
ill-luck  for  the  rest  of  the  season.  And  when  the  meal  was 
finished  he  collected  all  the  bones  and  tossed  them  into  the 
centre  of  the  fire,  so  that  they  would  be  property  consumed 
instead  of  allowing  the  dogs  to  eat  them;  and  thus  he  warded 
off  misfortime. 

As  we  sat  by  the  fire  that  night  Oo-koo-hoo  busied  himself 
making  decoys  for  geese,  by  chopping  blocks  of  dry  pine  into 
rough  images  of  their  bodies,  and  fashioning  their  necks  and 
heads  from  bent  wiUow  sticks;  as  well  as  roughly  staining  the 
completed  models  to  represent  the  plumage.  And  while  he 
worked  he  talked  of  the  coming  of  the  birds  in  spring. 

"My  son,  the  first  birds  to  arrive  are  the  eagles;  next,  the 
snow-birds  and  the  barking  crows  (ravens) ;  then  the  big  gray 
(Canada)  geese,  and  the  larger  ducks;  then  the  smaller  kinds 
of  geese  and  the  smaUer  kinds  of  ducks;  and  then  the  robins, 
blackbirds,  and  gulls.  Then,  as  likely  as  not,  a  few  days 
later,  what  is  caUed  a  *goose  winter' — a  heavy,  wet  snowstorm 
foUowed  by  colder  weather — ^may  come  along  and  try  to  drive 
the  birds  all  back  again;  but  before  the  bad  weather  completes 
its  useless  work  a  timely  south  wind  may  arrive,  and  with  the 
aid  of  a  milder  spell,  will  utterly  destroy  the  *goose  winter' . 


274  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

Then,  after  that,  the  sky  soon  becomes  mottled  with  flying 
birds  of  many  kinds:  gray  geese,  laughing  geese,  waveys,  and 
white  geese,  as  well  as  great  flocks  of  ducks  of  many  kinds; 
also  mud-hens,  sawbiUs,  waders,  plovers,  curlew,  pehcans, 
swans,  and  cranes,  both  white  and  gray.  Then  another  great 
flight  of  Uttle  birds  as  well  as  loons.  And  last  of  all  may  come 
the  httle  husky  geese  that  travel  farther  north  to  breed  their 
young  than  do  those  of  any  other  kind." 

The  next  day  the  hunters  built  a  "goose  stand"  on  the  sandy 
beach  of  Willow  Point  by  making  a  screen  about  six  feet  long 
by  three  feet  high  of  willow  branches;  and,  as  the  ground  was 
wet  and  cold,  a  brush  mattress  was  laid  behind  the  screen  upon 
which  the  hunters  could  sit  while  watching  for  geese.  The 
site  was  a  good  one,  as  Willow  Point  jutted  into  the  lake  near  a 
big  marsh  on  its  south  side.  Beyond  the  screen  they  set  their 
decoys,  some  in  the  water  and  others  on  the  sand,  but  all 
heading  up  wind.  When  they  shot  their  first  geese,  the 
himters  cut  off  the  wings  and  necks  together  with  the  heads 
and  fastened  them  in  a  natural  way  upon  the  decoys. 

Oo-koo-hoo  told  me  that  when  one  wished  to  secure  geese, 
he  should  be  in  readiness  to  take  his  position  behind  the  stand 
before  the  first  sign  of  morning  sun.  Furthermore,  he  told 
me  that  geese  were  usually  looking  for  open  water  and  sandy 
beaches  from  eight  to  nine  o'clock;  from  ten  to  twelve  they 
preferred  the  marshes  in  order  to  feed  upon  goose  grass  and 
goose  weed,  as  well  as  upon  the  roots  and  seeds  of  other 
aquatic  plants.  Then  from  noon  to  four  o'clock  they  sought  the 
lakes  to  preen  themselves;  while  from  four  to  six  they  returned 
to  the  sandy  beaches  and  then  resorted  to  the  marshes  in  which 
to  spend  the  night.  That  was  the  usual  procedure  for  from 
ten  to  fifteen  days,  then  away  they  went  to  their  more  northern 
breeding  groimds  where  they  spent  midsummer. 

Seeing  a  hawk  soaring  overhead,  Oo-koo-hoo  said  it  reminded 
him  of  a  hawk  that  once  bothered  him  by  repeatedly  swooping 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  275 

down  among  his  dead-duck  decoys,  and  each  time  he  had  to 
rush  from  his  Hind  to  drive  the  hawk  away  or  it  would  have 
carried  away  one  of  his  dead  ducks;  and  being  short  of  am- 
munition, he  did  not  care  to  waste  a  shot.  But  he  ended  the 
trouble  by  taking  up  all  his  dead  ducks  save  one.  Then  he 
removed  the  pointed  iron  from  his  muskrat  spear,  and  ramming 
the  butt  of  the  iron  into  the  sand,  left  it  standing  up  beside  the 
duck  as  though  it  had  been  a  reed.  The  next  time  the  hawk 
swooped  down,  he  let  it  drive  with  full  force  at  the  dead  duck, 
and  thus  impale  itself  on  the  muskrat  spear. 

But  one  day,  after  the  geese  had  passed  on  their  northward 
journey,  Oo-koo-hoo  began  making  other  decoys  of  a  different 
nature,  and  when  I  questioned  him,  he  rephed  that  he  was  going 
to  kill  a  few  loons  with  his  bow  and  arrow,  as  Granny  wished 
to  use  the  skins  of  their  necks  to  make  a  work-bag  for  the 
Factor's  wife  at  Fort  Consolation.  After  shaping  the  decoys, 
he  mixed  together  gunpowder,  charcoal,  and  grease  with  which 
to  paint  the  decoys  black — save  where  he  left  spots  of  the  hght- 
coloured  wood  to  represent  the  white  markings  of  those  beautiful 
birds.  When  the  decoys  were  eventually  anchored  in  the  bay 
they  bobbed  about  on  the  ripphng  water  quite  true  to  life  and 
they  even  took  an  occasional  dive,  when  the  anchor  thong  ran 
taut. 

OO-KOO-HOO'S  COURTING 

After  supper,  when  we  were  talking  about  old  customs,  I 
questioned  Oo-koo-hoo  as  to  how  the  Indians  married  before  it 
was  the  custom  to  go  to  the  Post  to  get  the  clergyman  to  perform 
that  rite;  and  in  reply  he  said: 

"My  son,  Ojistoh  and  I  were  married  both  ways,  so  I  don't 
think  I  can  do  better  than  to  tell  you  how  our  own  marriage 
took  place.  It  was  this  way,  my  son:  one  night,  when  old 
Noo-koom,  Ojistoh's  grandmother,  became  convinced  that  we 
lovers  had  sat  under  the  bleuiket  long  enough,  she  decided  that 


276  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

it  was  time  we  sat  upon  the  brush  together,  or  were  married. 
Accordingly,  she  talked  the  matter  over  with  Ojistoh's  parents. 
They  agreed  with  her,  and  Ojistoh's  father  said:  Tt  is  well  that 
Oo-koo-hoo  and  Ojistoh  should  be  married  according  to  the 
custom  of  our  people,  but  it  is  also  well  that  we  should  retain 
the  friendship  of  the  priest  and  the  nuns.  On  our  return  to 
Fort  Perseverance,  therefore,  the  children  must  be  married 
in  the  face  of  the  Chm-ch;  but  I  charge  you  all  not  to  let  any 
one  at  the  Post  know  that  Oo-koo-hoo  and  Ojistoh  have  already 
been  married  after  the  custom  of  our  people.  It  is  well  that  we 
should  Uve  according  to  the  ways  of  our  forefathers,  and  it  is 
also  well  that  we  should  seem  to  adopt  the  ways  of  the  white 
man.    Now  call  Ojistoh,  and  let  me  hear  what  she  has  to  say.' 

"When  Ojistoh  came  in,  her  father  told  her  that  I  was  a  good 
boy;  that  I  would  certainly  make  a  successful  hunter;  and  that, 
if  she  would  sit  upon  the  brush  with  me,  they  would  give  her 
plenty  of  marrow  grease  for  her  hair  and  some  porcupine  quills 
for  her  moccasins.  They  might  even  buy  her  some  ribbon, 
beads,  and  silk  thread  for  fancy  work.  Furthermore,  they  said 
I  would  be  given  enough  moose  skins  to  make  a  lodge  covering. 

"  Ojistoh  chewed  meditatively  upon  the  large  piece  of  spruce 
gum  in  her  mouth,  while  she  Hstened  with  averted  eyes  and 
drooping  head.  But  old  Noo-koom,  evidently  supposing 
Ojistoh  to  be  in  doubt,  interposed:  *You  must  sit  upon  the 
brush  with  him,  because  I  have  promised  that  you  would. 
Did  we  not  eat  the  fat  and  the  blood,  and  use  the  firewood 
he  left  at  our  door.^' 

"The  remembrance,  no  doubt,  of  all  that  dainty  eating 
decided  Ojistoh,  and  she  gave  her  word  that  she  would  sit 
upon  the  brush  with  me  if  they  would  promise  to  buy  her  a 
bottle  of  perfume  when  they  returned  to  Fort  Perseverance. 
When  Ojistoh  left  the  lodge,  her  father  said  to  me: 

"'Listen,  my  boy,  Noo-koom  tells  me  that  you  have  been 
sitting  under  the  blanket  with  my  daughter  Ojistoh.    She  is  a 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  277 

good  girl  and  will  make  you  happy;  for  she  can  make  good 
moccasins.' 

"  *Yes,'  I  replied,  'I  know  the  girl  and  I  want  her.' 

"  To-morrow,  then,'  said  her  father,  *you  must  sit  upon  the 
brush  with  her.     I  will  tell  the  women  to  prepare  the  feast.' 

"Next  morning  Ojistoh  sat  waiting  in  her  lodge  for  me  to 
come.  Already  she  wore  the  badge  of  womanhood,  for  not 
having  a  new  dress  she  had  simply  reversed  her  old  one  and 
buttoned  it  up  in  front  instead  of  the  back.  For  it  is  the  cus- 
tom of  Ojibway  girls  to  button  their  dresses  behind  and  for 
married  women  to  button  theirs  in  front. 

"My  son,  you  should  have  seen  me  that  morning,  for  I  was 
bedecked  in  all  my  finery,  and  upon  entering  Noo-koom's 
lodge,  I  seized  Ojistoh  by  the  hair  of  her  head,  and  dragged  her 
out.  Her  struggles  to  escape  from  me  were  quite  edifying  in 
their  propriety.  Her  shrieks  were  heartrending — or  rather, 
they  would  have  been  had  they  not  alternated  with  dehghted 
giggles.  By  that  time  the  wedding  march  had  begun;  for  as 
we  struggling  lovers  led  the  way,  the  children,  bubbling  with 
laughter,  followed;  and  the  old  people  brought  up  the  rear  of 
the  joyous  procession.  We,  the  happy  couple,  tussled  with 
each  other  imtil  we  reached  a  spot  in  the  bush  where  I  had 
cleared  a  space  and  laid  a  carpet  of  balsam  brush  beside  a  fire. 
There  I  deposited  her.  With  a  final  shriek  she  accepted  the 
new  conditions,  and  at  once  set  about  her  matrimonial  duties, 
while  the  others  returned  to  their  lodges  to  put  the  finishing 
touches  to  the  wedding  breakfast. 

"Oh,  yes,  my  son,  those  wer.e  happy  days,"  continued  the 
himter.  "There,  beside  a  great  fire  in  the  open,  was  laid  a  carpet 
of  brush,  in  the  centre  of  which  a  blanket  was  spread,  and  upon 
it  the  feast.  There  were  rabbits,  partridges,  and  fish  roasted 
upon  sticks.  In  a  pot,  boiled  fresh  moose  and  caribou  meat; 
in  another,  simmered  lynx  entrails,  bear  fat,  and  moose  steak. 
In  a  third,  stewed  ducks  and  geese.    In  a  fourth,  bubbled 


278  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

choice  pieces  of  beaver,  muskrat,  lynx,  and  skunk.  Besides, 
there  were  caribou  tongues,  beaver  tails,  bear  meat,  and  foxes' 
entrails  roasted  upon  the  coals.  Strong  tea  in  plenty,  fresh 
birch  syrup,  forest-made  cranberry  wine,  a  large  chunk  of  dried 
Saskatoon  berries  served  with  bear's  grease,  frozen  cranberries, 
and  a  little  bannock  made  of  flour,  water,  and  grease,  completed 
the  fare. 

"Then,  too,  Ojistoh  sat  beside  me  and  ate  out  of  my  dish. 
She  even  used  my  pipe  for  an  after-dinner  smoke.  Then,  after 
an  interval  of  rest,  dancing  began,  by  the  dancers  circling  the 
fire  to  the  measured  beat  of  a  drum.  Round  and  round  we 
moved  in  silence.  Then,  breaking  into  a  chant,  we  men  faced 
the  women,  and  from  time  to  time  solemnly  revolved.  But  the 
women  never  turned  their  backs  upon  the  fire.  It  was  rather 
slow,  monotonous  measure,  only  relieved  by  the  women  and 
children  throwing  feathers  at  one  another.  Between  each 
dance  the  company  partook  of  refreshments,  and  so  the  festivity 
proceeded  until  dayhght.  Next  morning  Ojistoh's  father 
gave  us  some  wholesome  advice  and  then  we  set  up  housekeep- 
ing on  our  own  account,  and,  as  you  see,  have  continued  it 
even  to  this  day;  haven't  we,  my  little  Ojistoh?"  smiled  the 
old  hunter  at  his  wife. 

nature's  sanctuaries 

One  Sunday  morning,  when  spring  was  all  a-dance  to  the 
wondrous  wild  music  of  the  woods,  I  sat  in  the  warmth  of  the 
sun  and  thought  of  my  Creator.  Later,  I  learned  that  Oo-koo- 
hoo  and  Amik  were  also  thinking  of  Him;  for  in  the  wilderness 
one  often  thinks  of  The  Master  of  Life.  That  morning  I 
thought,  too,  of  the  tolling  of  village  church  bells  and  of  cathe- 
dral chimes,  and  I  contrasted  those  metallic  sounds  with  the 
beautiful  singing  of  the  birds  of  the  forest;  also  I  contrasted  the 
difference  of  a  Sunday  in  the  city  with  a  Sunday  in  the  wilder- 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  279 

ness;  and  my  soul  rested  in  supreme  contentment.  Yet  the 
ignorant  city  dwellers  think  of  the  wilderness  as  "God-for- 
saken." Hunt  the  world  over,  and  could  one  find  any  more 
holy  places  than  some  of  Nature's  sanctuaries?  I  have  found 
many,  but  I  shall  recall  but  one,  a  certain  grove  on  the  Alaskan 
border. 

It  was  in  one  of  the  wildest  of  all  wild  regions  of  the  northern 
world.  "God-forsaken"  .  .  .  indeed?  In  truth,  it  seemed 
to  be  the  very  home  of  God.  There,  between  the  bases  of  two 
towering  perpendicular  ranges  of  mountains,  mantled  by  end- 
less snows  and  capped  by  eternal  ice,  lay  the  wildest  of  all 
box-canons:  one  end  of  which  was  blocked  by  a  barrier  of  snow 
hundreds  of  feet  high  and  thousands  of  feet  thick — the  work 
of  countless  avalanches;  while  the  other  end  was  blocked  by  a 
barrier  of  eternal  ice  thousands  of  feet  in  width  and  millions 
of  tons  in  weight — a  hving  and  growing  glacier.  And  there, 
away  down  at  the  very  bottom  of  that  wild  gorge,  beside  a 
roaring,  leaping  httle  river  of  seething  foam,  grew  a  beautiful 
grove  of  trees;  and  never  a  time  did  I  enter  there  but  what  I 
thought  of  it  as  holy  ground — ^far  more  holy  than  any  cathedral 
I  have  ever  known  ...  for  there,  in  that  grove,  one  seemed 
to  stand  in  the  presence  of  God. 

There,  in  that  grove,  the  great  reddish-brown  boles  of  Sitka 
spruces — foiu*  and  five  feet  in  diameter — towered  up  hke  many 
huge  architectural  columns  as  they  supported  the  ruggedly 
beamed  and  evergreen  ceiling  that  domed  far  overhead.  High 
above  an  altar-like  mass  of  rock,  completely  mantled  with  gor- 
geously coloured  mosses,  an  opening  shone  in  the  gray-green 
wall,  and  through  it  filtered  long  slemting  beams  of  sunfight, 
as  though  coming  through  a  leaded,  sky-blue,  stained-glass 
window  of  some  wonderful  cathedral.  While  upon  the  grove's 
mossy  floor  stood,  row  upon  row,  a  mass  of  luxuriant  ferns 
that  almost  covered  the  velvet  carpet,  and  seemed  to  form 
endless  seats  in  readiness  for  the  coming  of  some  congrega- 


280  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

tion.  But  on  only  one  occasion  did  I  ever  see  a  worshipper 
there. 

Weary  from  the  weight  of  a  heavy  pack — seventy-five 
pounds  of  dynamite — I  had  paused  to  rest  a  moment  in  that 
wonderful  place  which  so  few  human  beings  had  ever  discovered ; 
where,  too,  on  passing  through,  it  was  always  my  custom  to 
remove  my  hat — just  as  any  one  would  do  on  entering  a 
church.  There  that  day,  as  I  stood  gazing  at  the  glorious 
sunbeams  as  they  filtered  through  the  great  chancel  window, 
I  Hstened  to  the  enchanting  music  of  the  feathered  choir  high 
overhead,  that  seemed  to  be  singing  to  the  accompaniment  of 
one  of  Nature's  most  powerful  organs — the  roaring  river — that 
thundered  aloud,  as,  with  all  its  force,  it  wildly  rolled  huge 
boulders  down  its  rocky  bed.  Then,  lowering  my  eyes,  I  dis- 
covered the  one  and  only  worshipper  I  ever  saw  there.  He  was 
standing  near  a  side  aisle  in  the  shadow  of  an  alcove,  and  he, 
too,  was  gazing  up  at  those  radiant  sunbeams  and  Hstening  to 
the  choir;  moreover,  notwithstanding  that  he  was  a  big  brown 
bear,  he  appeared  too  devout  even  to  notice  me — ^perhaps  be- 
cause he,  too,  felt  the  holy  presence  of  "The  Great  Mystery" 
.    .    .    our  God. 

Yes,  my  friend,  it  is  my  behef  that  if  there  is  any  place  on 
earth  that  is  "God-forsaken,"  it  is  not  to  be  foimd  in  even 
the  wildest  part  of  the  wildest  wilderness,  but  in  that  cesspool 
called  a  city. 

GOING  TO  THE  POST 

After  half  of  May  had  passed  away,  and  when  the  spring 
hunt  was  over,  Oo-koo-hoo  and  Amik,  poling  up  the  turbulent 
little  streams,  and  following  as  closely  as  possible  the  routes 
of  their  fiu-  trails,  went  the  round  of  their  trapping  paths,  re- 
moved their  snares,  sprung  their  deadfalls,  and  gathering  their 
steel  traps  loaded  them  aboard  their  canoes.    That  work  com- 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  281 

pleted,  packing  began  in  readiness  for  the  postward  journey; 
there,  as  usual,  they  would  spend  their  well-earned  holidays 
with  pleasure  upon  their  tribal  summer  camping  grounds. 

So,  when  all  was  in  readiness,  the  deerskin  lodge  coverings 
were  taken  down,  rolled  up,  and  stored  out  of  harm's  way  upon 
a  stage.  Then,  with  hearts  hght  with  happiness  and  canoes 
heavy  with  the  wealth  of  the  forest,  we  paddled  away  with 
pleasant  memories  of  our  forest  home,  and  looked  forward  to 
our  arrival  at  Fort  Consolation. 

Soon  after  entering  Bear  River  the  canoes  were  turned 
toward  the  western  bank  and  halted  at  a  point  near  one  of  their 
old  camping  grounds.  Then  Naudin — Anuk's  wife — ^left  the 
others,  and  took  her  way  among  the  trees  to  an  opening  in  the 
wood.  There  stood  two  httle  wooden  crosses  that  marked  the 
graves  of  two  of  her  children — one  a  still-bom  girl  and  the 
other  a  boy  who  had  died  at  the  age  of  three.  Upon  the  boy's 
grave  she  placed  some  food  and  a  little  bow  and  some  arrows, 
and  bowed  low  over  it  and  wept  aloud.  But  at  the  grave  of  her 
still-bom  child  she  forgot  her  grief  and  smiled  with  joy  as  she 
placed  upon  the  mound  a  handful  of  fresh  flowers,  a  few  pretty 
feathers,  and  some  handsome  furs.  Sitting  there  in  the  warm 
sunshine,  she  closed  her  eyes — as  she  told  me  afterward — 
and  fancied  she  heard  the  httle  maid  dancing  among  the 
rustling  leaves  and  singing  to  her. 

Like  all  Indian  women  of  the  Strong  Woods,  she  beheved 
that  her  still-bom  child  would  never  grow  larger  or  older;  that 
it  would  never  leave  her;  that  it  would  always  love  her,  though 
she  hved  to  be  a  great-grandmother;  that  when  sorrow  and  pain 
bowed  her  low  this  httle  maid  would  laugh  and  dance  and  talk 
and  sing  to  her,  and  thus  change  her  grief  into  joy.  That  is 
why  an  Indian  mother  puts  pretty  things  upon  the  grave  of  her 
still-bom  child,  and  that  is  why  she  never  mourns  over  it. 

As  our  journey  progressed  those  enemies  of  comfort  and 
pleasure,  the  black  flies,  appeared,  and  at  sunrise  and  sunset 


282  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

caused  much  annoyance,  especially  among  the  children.  Then, 
too,  at  night  if  the  breeze  subsided,  mosquitoes  swarmed  from 
the  leeward  side  of  bushes  and  drove  slumber  away. 

One  afternoon,  while  resting,  we  observed  signs  of  beaver  and 
Oo-koo-hoo,  being  reminded  of  an  incident  he  once  witnessed, 
related  it  to  me: 

"Once,  my  son,  while  paddhng  alone,  I  rounded  the  bend 
of  a  river,  and  hearing  a  splash  just  beyond  the  turn,  silently 
propelled  my  canoe  beneath  a  screen  of  overhanging  branches. 
After  waiting  and  watching  awhile,  I  saw  an  otter  fishing  in  the 
stream.  A  moment  later  I  beheld  a  beaver — evidently  a 
female — swimming  just  beyond  the  otter,  and  pursued  by  two 
other  beavers — evidently  males.  The  males,  perceiving  the 
otter  swimming  in  the  direction  of  the  female,  probably  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  about  to  pay  his  court  to  her, 
for  they  suddenly  swerved  from  their  course  and  attacked  the 
innocent  otter.  He  dived  to  escape  his  assailants,  and  they 
dived  after  him.  When  he  rose  for  breath,  they  came  up,  too, 
and  made  after  him;  so  he  dived  again.  Evidently,  they  were 
trying  to  wind  their  quarry,  for  whenever  he  came  up  for 
breath  they  endeavoured  to  reach  him  before  he  got  it.  In  a 
short  time  they  had  so  exhausted  him  that  he  refused  to  dive 
again  before  he  gained  his  breath.  He  made  for  the  shore. 
The  beavers  rushed  after  him,  overtook  him,  and  just  as  he 
gained  the  bank,  ripped  his  throat  open.  Then  I  shot  one  of  the 
beavers  and  tossed  it  into  my  canoe  along  with  the  otter." 

The  journey  to  the  Post  was  a  delight  all  the  way — save 
when  the  flies  were  busy.  One  night  those  almost  invisible 
little  torments,  the  sand  flies,  caused  us — or  rather  me — ^much 
misery  until  Granny  built  such  a  large  fire  that  it  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  httle  brutes,  and  into  it  they  all  dived,  or  ap- 
parently did — ^just  as  she  said  they  would — for  in  less  than  half 
an  hour  not  a  single  sand  fly  remained. 

On  our  way  to  God's  Lake  we  had  considerable  sport  in  the 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  283 

way  of  shooting  white-water.  One  morning  we  landed  at  the 
head  of  a  portage,  and,  as  the  rapid  was  not  a  dangerous  one, 
Oo-koo-hoo  and  Amik  determined  to  rim  it,  but  first  went 
ashore  to  examine  the  channel.  On  their  return  Oo-koo-hoo 
instructed  the  others  to  follow  his  lead  about  four  canoe-lengths 
apgu^t,  so  that  in  case  of  mishap  they  could  help  each  other. 
Down  the  canoes  plunged  one  after  the  other.  The  children 
wielded  their  little  paddles,  screaming  with  dehght  as  they 
swiftly  glided  through  the  foaming  spray  past  shores  still  lined 
here  and  there  with  walls  of  ice. 

As  the  canoes  roimded  a  sharp  bend  in  the  rapid  Oo-koo-hoo 
descried  a  black  bear  walking  on  the  ice  that  overhung  the 
eastern  bank.  The  animal  seemed  as  much  surprised  as  any 
of  us,  and,  instead  of  making  off,  rose  upon  its  haunches  and 
gazed  in  amazement  at  the  passing  canoes.  But  as  we  swept 
by  there  was  no  thought  of  firing  gims.  The  sight  of  the  bear 
reminded  Oo-koo-hoo  of  an  experience  some  friends  of  his  once 
had  with  a  black  bear;  and  when  we  reached  slack  water  he  told 
it  to  me. 

The  friends  in  question  were  a  mother  and  her  daughter, 
and  late  one  afternoon  they  were  returning  from  berry  pick- 
ing. As  they  rounded  a  bend  in  the  river  the  daughter  in  the 
bow  suddenly  stopped  paddling,  and — ^without  turning  her 
face  toward  her  mother  in  the  stern — excitedly  whispered: 
''Muskwa!  MuskwaV 

Then  as  the  older  woman  caught  sight  of  a  dark  object  fifty 
paces  away,  she  uttered  a  few  hurried  conunands.  Both  fell 
to  paddling  with  all  their  might.  With  straining  backs,  stiff- 
ened arms,  and  bending  blades,  they  fairly  lifted  the  canoe  at 
every  stroke;  and  the  waters  gave  a  tearing  sound  as  the  slash- 
ing blades  sent  httle  whirlpools  far  behind.  Their  hearts 
were  fired  with  the  spirit  of  the  chase,  and — though  their  only 
weapons  were  their  skinning  knives — they  felt  no  fear.  On 
they  raced  to  head  the  bear,  who  was  swimming  desperately 


284  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

to  gain  the  shore.  They  overhauled  him.  He  turned  at 
bay.  The  daughter  soused  a  blanket  in  the  water  and  threw 
it  over  his  head.  The  mother  in  the  stern  reached  over  as  the 
canoe  glided  by,  seized  him  by  an  ear  as  he  struggled  blindly 
beneath  the  smothering  mantle,  and  drove  her  knife  into  his 
throat.  A  broad  circle  of  crimson  coloured  the  water  round  the 
blanket.  The  canoe  was  quickly  brought  about;  the  mother 
slipped  a  noose  over  his  head,  and  in  triumph  they  towed  the 
carcass  to  their  camp. 

On  the  last  morning  of  our  trip  there  was  a  flutter  of  pleasant 
excitement  among  our  httle  party;  and  by  the  time  the  sun 
appeared  and  breakfast  was  over,  everybody  was  laughing  and 
talking,  for  we  had  made  such  progress  that  we  expected  to 
reach  Fort  Consolation  by  ten  o'clock  that  forenoon.  Quickly 
we  loaded  the  canoes  again,  and  away  we  paddled.  In  a  few 
hours  the  beautiful  expanse  of  God's  Lake  appeared  before  us. 
When  we  sighted  the  old  fort,  a  joyous  shout  rang  out;  paddles 
were  waved  overhead,  and  tears  of  joy  rose  to  the  eyes  of  the 
women — and  of  some  of  the  men. 

Going  ashore,  we  quickly  made  our  toilets,  donning  our  very 
finest  in  order  to  make  a  good  appearance  on  our  arrival  at 
the  Fort — as  is  the  custom  of  the  Northland.  Bear's  grease 
was  employed  with  lavish  profusion,  even  Oo-koo-hoo  and  Amik 
and  the  boys  using  it  on  their  hair;  while  the  women  and  girls 
greased  and  wove  their  tresses  into  a  single  elongated  braid 
which  hung  down  behind.  The  men  put  on  their  fancy  silk- 
worked  moccasins;  tied  silk  handkerchiefs  about  their  necks — 
the  reverse  of  cow-boy  fashion — and  beaded  garters  around 
their  legs;  while  the  women  placed  many  brass  rings  upon  their 
fingers,  bright  plaid  shawls  about  their  shoulders,  gay  silk 
handkerchiefs  over  their  heads,  and  beaded  leggings  upon  their 
legs.  How  I  regretted  I  had  not  brought  along  my  top-hat — 
that  idiotic  symbol  of  civilization — ^for  if  I  could  have  worn  it 
on  that  occasion,  the  Indians  at  Fort  Consolation  would  have 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  285 

been  so  filled  with  merriment  that  they  would  have  in  all 
probability  remembered  me  for  many  a  year  as  the  one  white 
man  with  a  sense  of  humom*. 

For  in  truth,  it  is  just  as  Ohiyesa  (Charles  A.  Eastman) 
the  full-blooded  Sioux,  says  in  his  book  on  Indian  Boyhood: 
"There  is  scarcely  anything  so  exasperating  to  me  as  the  idea 
that  the  natives  of  this  country  have  no  sense  of  humour  and 
no  faculty  for  mirth.  This  phase  of  their  character  is  well 
understood  by  those  whose  fortune  or  misfortune  it  has  been 
to  live  among  them  day  in  and  day  out  at  their  homes.  I  don't 
beUeve  I  ever  heard  a  real  hearty  laugh  away  from  the  Indians' 
fireside.  I  have  often  spent  an  entire  evening  in  laughing  with 
them  until  I  could  laugh  no  more." 

CONTEST  OF  WITS 

When  we  arrived  at  Fort  Consolation,  Oo-koo-hoo  and  his 
party  were  greeted  by  a  swarm  of  their  copper-coloured  friends, 
among  whom  were  The  Little  Pine  and  his  father,  mother,  and 
sister.  Making  his  way  through  the  press,  The  Owl  strode 
toward  the  trading  room  to  shake  hands  with  Factor  Macken- 
zie; but  the  trader,  hearing  of  Oo-koo-hoo's  arrival,  hastened 
from  his  house  to  welcome  the  famous  hunter;  and  The  Owl 
greeted  him  with: 

''Quay,  quay,  Hu-ge-mow"  (good  day.  Master). 

On  their  way  to  the  Indian  shop  they  passed  the  canoe  shed, 
where  skilled  hands  were  finishing  two  handsome  six-fathom 
canoes  for  the  use  of  the  Fur  Brigade;  and  they  stopped  to 
examine  them. 

The  building  of  a  six-fathom  or  "North"  canoe  generally 
takes  place  under  a  shed  erected  for  the  purpose,  where  there  is 
a  clear,  level  space  and  plenty  of  working  room.  Two  principal 
stakes  are  driven  at  a  distance  apart  of  thirty-six  feet,  the  length 
of  the  craft  to  be.    These  are  connected  by  two  rows  of 


286  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

smaller  stakes  diverging  and  converging  so  as  to  form  the 
shape  of  the  canoe.  The  smaller  stakes  are  five  feet  apart  at 
the  centre.  Pieces  of  birch  bark  are  soaked  in  water  for  a  day 
and  no  more,  sewn  together  with  wat-tap — the  roots  of  cedar  or 
spruce  gathered  in  spring — ^placed  between  the  stakes  with  the 
outer  side  down,  and  then  made  fast.  The  well-soaked  ribs 
are  then  put  in  place  and  as  soon  as  they  are  loaded  with 
stones  the  bark  assumes  its  proper  form.  The  gunwales, 
into  which  the  ends  of  the  ribs  are  mortised,  are  bound  into 
position  with  wat-tap.  The  thwarts  are  next  adjusted.  The 
stones  and  stakes  are  then  removed;  the  seams  are  covered 
with  a  mixture  of  one  part  grease  to  nine  parts  spruce  gum; 
the  craft  is  tested,  and  is  then  held  in  readiness  for  its  maiden 
voyage. 

On  entering  the  Indian  shop  or  trading  room,  Oo-koo-hoo 
was  ready  to  talk  about  anything  under  the  sun  save  business, 
as  he  wanted  to  force  the  Trader  to  solicit  his  patronage;  but 
as  the  Factor  was  trying  to  make  the  hunter  do  the  same  thing, 
they  parted  company  a  little  later  without  having  mentioned 
the  word  "trade." 

No  wonder  the  Indians  are  glad  to  return  to  their  tribal 
srnnmer  camping  grounds;  for  it  is  there  that  they  rest  and  play 
and  spend  their  summer  holidays.  It  is  there,  too,  that  the 
young  people  enjoy  the  most  favourable  opportunity  for  doing 
their  courting;  as  every  event — such  as  the  departure  or  the 
return  of  the  Fur  Brigade — calls  for  a  festival  of  dancing  which 
not  infrequently  lasts  for  several  days.  Also,  in  many  other 
ways,  the  boys  and  girls  have  chances  of  becoming  acquainted. 
Since  young  hunters  often  claim  their  sweethearts  during  the 
winter,  many  "marriages"  take  place  after  the  Indian  fashion. 
On  their  return  to  the  Post,  however,  the  young  couples  are 
generally  married  over  again,  and  this  time  after  the  white 
man's  custom — "in  the  face  of  the  Church."  The  way  the 
young  people   "keep   company"    at   the   summer   camping 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  287 

grounds  presents  no  feature  of  special  interest.  It  is  during 
the  winter  season  in  the  forest  many  miles  beyond  the  Post 
that  the  old  customs  have  full  sway.  The  re-manying  the 
young  couples  "in  the  face  of  the  Church"  frequently  de- 
mands extreme  vigilance,  for  in  the  confusion  of  the  matri- 
monial busy  season  when  the  Indians  first  come  in  the  Uttle 
papoose  is  apt  to  be  christened — unless  the  clergyman  is  very 
careful — before  the  parents  have  had  time  to  arrange  for  their 
church  wedding. 

Meanwhile,  the  women  having  erected  the  canvas  lodge 
and  put  in  order  one  of  their  last-year's  birch-bark  wigwams, 
called  upon  the  Factor's  wife  and  presented  her  with  a  hand- 
some work-bag  made  of  beautifully  marked  skins  from  the 
necks  of  the  loons  Oo-koo-hoo  had  shot  with  his  bow  and  arrow 
for  that  purpose. 

After  leaving  the  Indian  shop,  the  hunter  returned  to  his 
camp  to  talk  matters  over  with  Amik  and  the  women.  He 
told  them  that  he  intended  selling  most  of  his  furs  to  the 
Company,  but  that  he  thought  it  wise  to  stay  away  from  the 
Factor  until  next  day.  But  as  Granny,  being  a  Roman 
Catholic,  wanted  to  have  Father  Jois  marry  Neykia  and  The 
Little  Pine,  she  suggested  that  Oo-koo-hoo  go  and  call  upon  the 
priest  at  once.  Notwithstanding  that  her  mother  was  a 
Presbyterian,  Neykia  had  joined  the  Roman  Cathohc  Church 
and  when  asked  why  she  had  done  so,  she  said  it  was  because 
she  thought  the  candles  looked  so  pretty  burning  on  the 
altar. 

Though  The  Owl  was  not  in  the  least  interested  in  any  one 
of  the  white  man's  many  rehgions,  nor  in  the  priest,  the  clergy- 
man, or  the  minister  of  the  three  different  denominations  rep- 
resented at  the  Post,  he  now  called  upon  the  priest  as  his 
wife  wished  him  to.  During  the  course  of  their  conversation 
the  priest  said : 

"  My  son,  that  was  a  beautiful  silver  fox  you  sold  the  Com- 


288  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

pany  three  years  ago.  I,  myself,  would  have  paid  you  well 
for  it." 

"Would  you  look  as  well  upon  a  black  fox?"  asked  Oo-koo- 
hoo  in  surprise,  as  it  is  an  unwritten  law  of  the  country  that 
missionaries  are  not  to  cairry  on  trade  with  the  Indians. 

*  *  Yes.    Have  you  one  ? ' '  questioned  the  priest. 

"I  have  never  seen  a  finer,"  replied  the  hunter. 

"But  do  either  of  the  traders  know  you  have  it.^"  asked  the 
priest. 

"No,"  answered  Oo-koo-hoo,  with  a  shake  of  his  head. 

Later,  when  the  priest  saw  the  skin,  he  was  delighted  with  it, 
and  a  bargain  was  soon  made.  Oo-koo-hoo  was  to  get  one 
hundred  "skins"  for  the  black  fox,  and  he  was  told  to  call  next 
day.  But  after  returning  to  camp,  he  grew  impatient  and 
went  back  to  the  priest  to  demand  his  pay.  The  priest  said  he 
would  give  him  a  tent  and  a  rifle  worth  more  than  fifty  skins 
and  that  he  would  say  ten  masses  for  him  and  his  family,  which 
would  be  a  very  generous  equivalent  for  the  other  fifty  skins. 
But  Oo-koo-hoo,  suddenly  flaring  up,  began  to  storm  at  the 
priest,  and  demanded  the  black  fox  back.  But  the  priest 
sternly  motioned  for  silence  with  upraised  hand,  and  whispered : 
"  This  is  God's  House.  There  must  be  no  noise  or  anger  here." 
And  without  another  word  he  withdrew  to  get  the  rifle  and 
the  tent.  When  he  returned  with  an  old  tent  and  a  second- 
hand rifle,  Oo-koo-hoo  would  not  deign  to  touch  them.  With- 
out more  ado,  he  tmned  on  his  heel  and  walked  away. 

On  reaching  camp,  the  old  hunter  learned  from  the  children 
that  the  women  had  gone  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  nuns;  so  he 
foUowed  them,  and,  without  even  speaking  to  the  Sisters, 
ordered  the  women  to  come  home.  On  the  way  he  eased  his 
wrath  by  teUing  them  that  never  again  would  he  buy  prayers 
or  masses  from  the  priest  with  black  fox  skins,  and  that  if  they 
ever  wanted  masses,  he  would  pay  for  them  with  nothing  but 
the  skins  of  skunks.    He  did  not  see  why  he  had  to  pay  for 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  289 

masses,  anyway,  when  Free  Trader  Spear  had  made  them  a 
standing  offer  of  all  the  prayers  they  wanted  free  of  charge, 
provided  that  he,  Oo-koo-hoo,  would  trade  with  him.  He 
added  that  he  had  haK  a  mind  to  accept  Spear's  offer,  just  to 
spite  the  priest. 

So  after  meditating  for  a  while  upon  his  steadfast  belief 
that  any  fool  of  an  Indian  is  better  than  a  white  man,  and  that 
the  only  good  white  men  are  the  dead  ones,  he  got  into  his 
canoe  and  paddled  across  the  lake  to  interview  the  opposition 
trader. 

When  he  told  Spear  what  a  splendid  black  fox  he  had,  and 
how  the  priest  had  already  offered  him  a  hundred  skins  for 
it,  the  Free  Trader  said: 

"I'll  give  you  a  hundred  and  ten  for  it,"  and  the  old  repro- 
bate added,  "and  I'll  throw  into  the  bargain  half-a-dozen 
prayers  for  the  women." 

The  offer  was  at  once  accepted.  On  handing  over  the  goods 
to  Oo-koo-hoo,  the  trader  asked  where  the  black  fox  was,  and 
was  told  that  it  was  in  keeping  of  the  priest.  So  without  delay 
Mr.  Spear  paddled  back  with  The  Owl  to  get  the  skin.  When 
the  priest  learned  how  the  hunter  had  stolen  a  march  on  him, 
he  was  righteously  indignant;  but  he  dared  not  complain,  since 
he  was  not  supposed  to  deal  in  furs.  There  was  nothing  to  do 
but  hand  over  the  magnificent  skin  to  the  Free  Trader  although 
he  knew  right  well  that  in  London  or  Paris  it  would  bring 
twenty  times  the  price  paid  for  it. 

Next  day  old  Granny  came  crying  to  Oo-koo-hoo  and  com- 
plaining that  the  priest  had  refused  to  officiate  at  the  wedding, 
on  the  day  agreed  upon.  The  nuns  had  told  her  that  his  re- 
fusal was  due  to  his  determination  to  discipUne  The  Owl  for 
his  rudeness  and  irreverence.  That  seemed  to  worry  the 
hunter  considerably,  for,  though  he  cared  nothing  for  the 
priest's  benediction,  he  did  want  the  wedding  to  come  off  upon 
the  day  appointed.    It  touched  his  pride  to  be  balked  in  his 


290  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

plans.  He  had  already  invited  all  the  Indians  at  the  Post  to 
the  ceremony.  Great  preparations  were  being  made.  If 
the  wedding  were  put  off  even  a  single  day,  everybody  would  be 
curious  to  know  why;  and  sooner  or  later  it  would  be  known 
that  he  had  had  to  bow  to  the  will  of  the  priest.  The  thought 
rankled.  So  he  went  to  the  Factor  and  told  him  the  whole 
affair. 

"Ma  brither,"  said  the  Factor,  "we  are  auld  freens;  it  is 
weel  that  we  shud  staun'  thegither.  If  ye  will  trade  a'  yir  furs 
wi'  me  this  day,  I'll  get  the  meenister  o'  the  Presybyterian 
Kirk  tae  mairry  yir  gran'dochter.  He'll  be  gled  eneuch  tae 
gi'e  Father  Jois  a  clour  by  mairryin'  twa  o'  his  fowk.  Sell  me 
yir  furs,  an'  I'll  warrant  ye  ye'U  hae  the  laff  on  Father  Jois." 

MISSIONARIES  AND  INDIANS 

That  settled  it.  Factor  Mackenzie  got  all  the  furs  Oo-koo- 
hoo  and  his  family  possessed.  The  Factor  and  the  hunter 
were  now  the  best  of  friends,  and  they  even  went  so  far  as  to 
exchange  presents — and  that's  going  some  .  .  .  for  a 
Scotsman. 

Should  the  foregoing  amuse  the  Protestant  reader,  the  follow- 
ing may  be  of  interest  to  the  Roman  Catholic.  One  winter, 
while  halting  at  a  certain  Hudson's  Bay  post,  I  met  a  Protestant 
clergyman,  who  having  spent  a  number  of  years  as  a  missionary 
among  the  natives  on  the  coast  of  Hudson  Bay  excited  my 
interest  as  to  his  work  among  the  Indians.  That  night,  after 
supper,  I  questioned  him  as  to  his  spiritual  work  among  the 
"barbarians"  of  the  forest,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  trader,  he  turned  to  me  and,  with  the  air  of  being 
intensely  bored  by  the  subject,  he  replied:  "Mr.  Heming  .  .  . 
the  only  interest  I  ever  take  in  the  Indian  ...  is  when  I 
bury  him." 

But  while  I  have  cited  two  types  of  clergymen  I  have  known 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  291 

— the  name  of  the  priest  being,  of  course,  fictitious — ^merely  to 
point  out  the  kind  of. missionaries  that  should  never  be  sent 
among  the  Indians,  I  not  only  wish  to  state  that  they  are  very 
much  the  exception  to  the  rule,  but  I  also  want  to  make  known 
my  unbounded  respect  and  admiration  for  that  host  of  splendid 
men — and  women — of  all  denominations,  who  have  devoted 
their  lives  to  the  spiritual  welfare  of  the  people  of  the  wilder- 
ness, and  some  of  whom  have  already  left  behind  them  hallowed 
names  of  imperishable  memory. 

But  the  lot  of  the  missionary  among  the  Indians  is  not 
altogether  a  joyous  one.  In  his  distant  and  isolated  outpost 
there  are  privations  to  endure  and  hardships  to  sniffer.  Fre- 
quently, too,  it  happens  that  he  is  placed  in  a  position  exceed- 
ingly embarrassing  to  a  man  of  gentle  breeding  and  kindly 
spirit. 

A  well-known  Canadian  priest  was  being  entertained  by 
an  Indian  family.  The  hospitable  old  grandmother  undertook 
to  prepare  a  meal  for  him.  Determined  to  set  before  the 
"black-robe"  a  really  dainty  dish — something  after  the 
fashion  of  a  Hamburg  steak — and  possessing  no  machine  for 
mincing  the  meat,  she  simply  chewed  it  up  nice  and  fine  in  her 
own  mouth.  After  cooking  it  to  a  turn,  she  set  it  before  her 
honoured  guest,  and  was  at  a  loss  to  understand  why  the  good 
man  had  so  suddenly  lost  his  appetite. 

But  there  is  often  a  brighter  and  also  a  graver  side  to  the 
missionary's  fife  among  the  red  men.  Incidents  occur  which 
appeal  irresistibly  to  his  sense  of  humour. 

One  Sunday  afternoon  a  certain  noted  bishop  of  the  English 
Church  in  Canada,  who  had  spent  most  of  his  life  as  a  mis- 
sionary in  the  far  Northwest,  was  discoursing  at  considerable 
length  to  a  band  of  Dog-rib  Indians  camped  at  the  mouth  of 
Hay  River  on  Great  Slave  Lake.  His  Lordship  dwelt  earnestly 
upon  the  virtue  of  brotherly  love,  and  enlarged  upon  the  beauty 
of  the  Divine  saying —  "It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  re- 


292  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

ceive."  After  the  service  an  old  Indian  walked  up  to  the 
preacher,  piously  repeated  the  sacred  text,  and  intimated  that 
he  was  prepared  to  become  the  humble  instrument  for  bringing 
upon  his  reverence  the  promised  blessing.  To  that  end  he  was 
wiUing  to  receive  his  lordship's  hat. 

The  good  bishop  was  taken  aback.  Realizing,  however, 
that  there  was  nothing  else  for  him  to  do,  he  took  off  his  hat  and 
bestowed  it  with  commendable  cheerfulness  upon  his  new 
disciple. 

Another  red  man,  jealous  of  his  brother  who  was  now  parad- 
ing in  all  the  splendour  of  the  bishop's  hat,  claimed  upon  the 
same  ground  the  prelate's  gaiters,  and  received  them. 

The  two  Indians,  envious  each  of  the  other's  acquisition, 
began  to  discuss  with  growing  anger  the  comparative  value 
of  the  articles.  Unable  to  arrive  at  an  agreement,  they  resolved 
to  put  up  the  hat  and  gaiters  as  a  stake  and  gamble  for  them. 

The  impressive  head-gear  and  antique  gaiters  of  an  Anglican 
bishop  never  appeared  to  greater  advantage  than  they  did 
upon  the  old  Indian,  the  winner  of  the  game,  when  he  proudly 
strutted  before  his  dusky,  admiring  brethren,  displaying  on 
head  and  bare  legs  the  Episcopal  insignia,  and  having  for  his 
only  other  garment  an  old  shirt  whose  dingy  tail  fluttered 
coyly  in  the  summer  breeze. 

neykia's  wedding 

At  ten  o'clock,  on  the  morning  of  Neykia's  wedding,  a  motley 
mass  of  natives  clothed  in  many  colours  crowded  about  the 
little  church,  which,  for  lack  of  space,  they  could  not  enter. 
Presently  the  crowd  surged  back  from  the  door  and  formed  on 
either  side  of  the  path,  leaving  an  opening  down  the  centre. 
A  tall  half-breed  with  a  shock  of  wavy  black  hair  stepped 
from  the  doorway,  raised  his  violin,  and  adjusting  it  into  posi- 
tion, struck  up  a  lively  tune  to  the  accompaniment  of  the 


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^  s  s  ^ 


<u 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  293 

wailing  of  a  broken  concertina  played  by  another  half-breed 
who  preceded  the  newly  married  couple.  Neykia  wore  a  silk 
handkerchief  over  her  head,  a  light-coloured  cotton  waist  open 
at  the  throat,  a  silk  sash  over  one  shoulder,  and  a  short  skirt 
revealing  beaded  leggings  and  moccasins.  Behind  the  bride 
and  groom  walked  Oo-koo-hoo  and  the  fathers  of  the  bridal 
couple,  then  the  mothers  and  the  rest  of  the  relations,  while 
the  clergy  and  the  other  guests  brought  up  the  rear.  As  the 
little  procession  moved  along,  the  men,  lined  up  on  either  side 
of  the  path,  crossed  their  guns  over  the  heads  of  the  wedding 
party,  and  discharged  a/eu  de  joie. 

On  reaching  a  certain  log-house  the  procession  broke  up. 
The  older  people  went  in  to  partake  of  the  wedding  breakfast, 
while  the  bride  and  groom  went  over  to  one  of  the  warehouses 
and  amused  themselves  dancing  with  their  young  friends  until 
they  were  summoned  to  the  second  table  of  the  marriage  feast. 
Everybody  at  the  Post  had  contributed  something  toward 
either  the  feast  or  the  dance.  Out  of  respect  for  Oo-koo-hoo 
the  Factor  had  furnished  a  liberal  stock  of  groceries  and  had,  in 
addition,  granted  the  free  use  of  the  buildings.  The  clerk  had 
sent  in  a  quantity  of  candies  and  tobacco.  The  priest  had 
given  potatoes;  the  clergyman  had  suppKed  a  copy  of  the 
Bible  in  syllabic  characters;  and  the  minister  had  given  the 
silver-plated  wedding  ring.  The  nims  had  presented  a  supply 
of  skim-milk  and  butter.  Mr.  Spear  provided  jam,  pickles,  and 
coal-oil  for  the  lamps.  The  Mounted  Police  contributed  two 
dollars  to  pay  for  the  "band" — the  fiddle  and  the  concertina — 
and  ammunition  enough  for  the  feu  de  joie.  The  friends  and 
relations  had  given  a  plentiful  store  of  fresh,  dried,  and  pounded 
fish;  and  had  also  furnished  a  lavish  supply  of  moose,  caribou, 
and  bear  meat;  as  well  as  dainty  bits  of  beaver,  lynx,  muskrat, 
and  skunk. 

The  bridal  party  having  dined,  they  and  their  elders  opened 
the  ball  officially.    The  first  dance  was — as  it  always  is — the 


294  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

Double  Jig,  then  followed  in  regular  order  the  same  dances  as 
those  of  the  New  Year's  feast.  After  a  frohc  of  several  hours' 
duration  some  of  the  dancers  grew  weary  and  returned  to 
the  banquet  room  for  refreshments.  And  thus  for  three  days 
and  three  nights  the  festivities  continued. 

THE   WEDDING   SPEECHES 

During  a  lull  in  the  dancing  on  the  afternoon  of  the  wedding 
day  Little  Pine's  sister  went  up  to  him  and  said:  "Brother, 
may  I  kiss  you.^  Are  you  ashamed.^"  He  answered:  "No." 
She  kissed  him,  took  his  wife's  hand,  placed  it  in  his  with  her 
own  over  both,  and  addressed  the  young  wife : 

"As  you  have  taken  my  place,  do  to  him  as  I  have  done; 
listen  to  him,  work  for  him,  and,  if  need  be,  die  for  him." 

Then  she  lowered  her  head  and  began  to  cry. 

Ne-Geek,  The  Otter,  Neykia's  oldest  brother,  then  went  up 
to  Little  Pine  and  asked : 

"Are  you  man  enough  to  work  for  her,  to  feed  her,  and  to 
protect  her  .^  " 

"Yes,"  replied  the  new-made  husband. 

The  Otter  put  the  husband's  hand  on  his  sister's  hand, 
and — looking  him  straight  in  the  eyes  .  .  .  shook  his 
clenched  fist  at  him  and  said  in  a  threatening  tone  .  .  .  "Be- 
ware!" 

In  the  midst  of  one  of  the  dances  Oo-koo-hoo  walked  up 
to  the  "band"  and  knocked  up  the  fiddle  to  command  silence. 
Pulling  his  capote  tightly  about  him,  he  assumed  a  dignified 
attitude,  slowly  looked  round  the  room  to  see  that  he  had 
the  attention  of  all  present,  and  began  to  address  the 
assemblage: 

"The  step  which  Shing-wauk  has  taken  is  a  very  serious 
one.  Now  he  will  have  to  think  for  two.  Now  he  must  sup- 
ply the  wants  of  two.     Now  he  will  realize  what  trouble  is. 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  RETURN  295 

But  the  One  who  made  us  .  .  .  The  Great  Mystery  .  .  . 
The  Master  of  Life  .  .  .  made  us  right.  The  man  has  his 
work  to  do,  and  the  woman  has  hers.  The  man  must  hunt  and 
kill  animals,  and  the  woman  must  skin  and  dress  them.  The 
man  must  always  stand  by  her  and  she  by  him.  The  two  to- 
gether are  strong  .  .  .  and  there  is  no  need  of  outside 
assistance.  Remember  .  .  .  my  grandchildren  .  .  . 
you  are  starting  out  together  that  way    .     .     ." 

To  illustrate  his  meaning,  he  held  up  two  fingers  parallel, 
and  added: 

"If  your  tracks  fork  .  .  .  they  will  soon  be  as  far 
apart  as  sunrise  is  from  sunset  .  .  .  and  you  will  find 
many  ready  to  come  in  between.  Carry  on  in  the  way  you 
have  begim  ...  for  that  is  the  way  you  should  end.  And 
remember  ...  if  your  tracks  once  fork  .  .  .  they 
will  never  come  together  again  .  .  .  my  grandchildren 
.     .     .     I  have  spoken." 

After  Little  Pine's  father,  as  well  as  several  of  the  guests,  had 
made  their  remarks,  Naudin,  Neykia's  mother,  rose  to  address 
her  daughter.  Overcome  with  nervousness,  she  pulled  her 
shawl  so  far  over  her  face  as  to  leave  only  a  tiny  peep-hole 
through  which  to  look.    Hesitatingly  she  began: 

"My  daughter,  you  never  knew  what  trouble  is,  now  you 
will  know.  You  never  knew  what  hard  work  is,  now  you  will 
soon  leam.  Never  let  your  husband  want  for  anything. 
Never  allow  another  woman  to  do  anything  for  him;  if  you 
do  .  .  .  you  are  lost.  When  you  have  children,  my 
daughter,  and  they  grow  up,  your  sons  will  always  be  sons  to 
you,  even  though  they  be  gray-headed.  But  with  your  daugh- 
ters it  will  not  be  so;  when  they  marry,  they  will  be  lost  to 
you.    Once  married,  they  are  gone  for  ever." 

She  stepped  up  to  her  daughter,  kissed  her,  and  sank  to  the 
floor,  weeping  copiously. 

Then  Amik  rose  to  speak.    He  beckoned  to  his  daughter. 


296  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

She  advanced  and  knelt  down,  holding  the  fringe  of  his  legging 
while  he  addressed  her : 

"Neykia,  my  daughter,  you  have  taken  this  man.  Be  good 
to  him,  work  for  him,  Hve  for  him,  and  if  need  he,  die  for  him. 
Eass  me,  Neykia,  my  daughter;  kiss  me  for  the  last  time.'* 

She  kissed  him,  and  he  added: 

"You  have  kissed  me  for  the  last  time:  henceforth  never 
kiss  any  man  but  your  husband." 

Raising  his  hand  with  imtutored  dignity,  he  pronounced  the 
words: 

"Remember    .    .    .    I  have  spoken." 


VIII 
BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE 

FAREWELL  ATHABASCA 

Though  Wawe  Pesim  (The  Egg  Moon),  or  June,  had  al- 
ready brought  summer  to  the  Great  Northern  Forest,  the 
beautiful  Athabasca  still  waited  in  vain.  Son-in-law  had  not 
yet  appeared.  After  all — ^was  he  but  a  fond  parents'  dream? 
I  wondered. 

Soon  the  picturesque  and  romantic  Fur  Brigade  would  be 
sweeping  southward  on  its  voyage  from  the  last  entrenchments 
of  the  Red  Gods  to  the  newest  outposts  of  civilization — a  civili- 
zation that  has  debauched,  infected,  plundered,  and  murdered 
the  red  man  ever  since  its  first  onset  upon  the  eastern  shores 
of  North  America.  K  you  don't  believe  this,  read  history, 
especially  the  history  of  the  American  fur  trade. 

Meanwhile,  canoes  laden  with  furs  and  in  charge  of  Hudson's 
Bay  traders  or  clerks  from  outlying  "Flying  Posts"  had 
arrived;  and  among  the  voyageurs  was  that  amusing  character. 
Old  Billy  Brass.  A  httle  later,  too,  Chief  Factor  Thompson 
arrived  from  the  North.  Now  in  the  fur  loft  many  hands  were 
busily  engaged  in  sorting,  folding,  and  packing  in  collapsible 
moulds — that  determined  the  size  and  shape  of  the  fur  packs — 
a  great  variety  of  skins.  Also  they  were  energetically  weighing, 
cording,  and  covering  the  fur  packs  with  burlap — Cleaving  two 
ears  of  that  material  at  each  end  to  facihtate  handling  them, 
as  each  pack  weighed  eighty  pounds. 

A  fur  pack  of  one  hundred  pounds — for  the  weight  varies 
according  to  the  difficulty  of  transportation  in  certain  regions — 

297 


298  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

contains  on  an  average  fourteen  bear,  sixty  otter,  seventy 
beaver,  one  hundred  and  ten  fox  skins,  or  six  hundred  muskrat 
skins.  A  pack  of  assorted  furs  contains  about  eighty  skins  and 
the  most  valuable  ones  are  placed  in  the  centre. 

During  the  next  few  days  the  great  "North'*  or  six-fathom 
canoes — ^made  of  birch  bark  and  capable  of  carrying  from  three 
to  four  tons  of  freight  in  addition  to  their  crews  of  from  eight  to 
twelve  men — were  brought  out  of  the  canoe  house,  and  to- 
gether with  the  two  new  ones,  had  their  bows  and  sterns 
painted  white  in  readiness  for  their  finishing  touch  of  decora- 
tion in  the  way  of  some  symbol  of  the  fur  trade. 

As  the  principal  Indian  canoemen,  who  were  to  join  the  Fur 
Brigade,  were  already  famihar  with  my  abiUty  as  an  artist, 
they  waited  upon  the  Factor  and  requested  him  to  soHcit 
my  help  in  the  final  decorating  of  those  beautiful  canoes.  So 
it  came  to  pass  that  on  the  bow  of  one  a  leaping  otter  appeared 
and  on  the  bows  of  others,  a  rearing  bear,  a  flying  goose,  a 
rampant  caribou,  a  galloping  fox,  a  leaping  lynx,  a  rampant 
moose,  and  on  still  another  the  coat-of-arms  of  the  Hudson's 
Bay  Company.  Each  in  turn  had  its  admirers,  but  Oo-koo- 
hoo,  who  was  to  have  charge  of  all  the  voyageurs,  sidled  up  to 
Factor  Mackenzie  and  whispered  that  if  Hu-ge-mow — Master 
— would  let  him  take  his  choice  of  the  canoes,  he  would  not 
only  give  the  Factor  a  dollar  in  return  for  the  privilege,  but  he 
would  promise  to  keep  that  particular  canoe  at  the  very  head 
of  the  whole  brigade,  and  never  once  allow  another  canoe  to 
pass  it  during  the  voyage. 

The  Factor  was  not  only  interested  in  the  Indian's  apprecia- 
tion of  art,  as  well  as  amused  over  the  idea  that  he  would 
accept  a  bribe  of  a  dollar,  but  he  was  curious  to  know  which 
canoe  the  Indian  most  favoured.  It  was  the  one  that  displayed 
the  Great  Company's  coat-of-arms;  so  Oo-koo-hoo,  the  famous 
white-water-man,  not  only  won  his  choice  and  retained  his 
dollar,  but  furthermore,  he  and  his  crew  actually  did  keep 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  299 

the  bow  of  that  canoe  ahead  of  all  others — ^no  matter  where 
or  when  the  other  crews  contested  for  the  honour  of  leading  the 
Fur  Brigade. 

The  next  morning,  at  sunrise,  the  Fur  Brigade  was  to 
take  its  departure.  Now  it  was  time  I  visited  Spearhead,  to 
thank  my  friends,  the  Free  Trader  and  his  family,  for  all 
their  kindness  to  me,  and  to  bid  them  farewell;  so  I  borrowed 
a  small  canoe  and  paddled  across  the  lake.  When  I  arrived 
they  invited  me  to  dine  with  them.  At  the  table  that  day 
there  was  less  talking — everyone  seemed  to  be  in  a  thoughtful 
mood. 

The  windows  and  doors  were  open  and  the  baggy  mosquito 
netting  sagged  away  from  the  hot  sun  as  the  cool  breeze  whis- 
pered through  its  close-knit  mesh.  Outside,  I  could  see  the 
heifer  and  her  mother  lying  in  the  shade  of  a  tree  on  the  far 
side  of  the  stump-lot,  and  near  the  doorway  the  ducks  and  geese 
were  sauntering  about  the  grass  and  every  now  and  then  making 
sudden  little  rushes — as  though  they  were  trying  to  catch  some- 
thing. There,  too,  in  the  pathway,  the  chickens  were  scratch- 
ing about  and  ruffling  their  feathers  in  httle  dust  holes — as 
though  they  were  trying  to  get  rid  of  something.  An  im- 
expected  grunt  at  the  doorway  attracted  my  attention  and  I 
saw  a  pig  leering  at  me  from  the  comers  of  its  half-closed  eyes — 
the  very  same  pig  the  Free  Trader  and  his  wife  had  chosen  to 
add  to  their  daughter's  wedding  dowry — then  it  gave  a  famiUar 
little  nod,  as  though  it  recognized  me;  and  I  fancied,  too,  that  its 
ugly  chops  broke  into  an  insolent  smile.  What  was  it  thinking 
about?    .     .     .    Was  it  Son-in-law?    I  wondered. 

I  glanced  at  Athabasca.  How  beautiful  she  looked!  The 
reflected  sunhght  in  the  room  cast  a  delightful  sheen  over  her 
lustrous  brown  hair,  and  seemed  to  enhance  the  beauty  of  her 
charmingly  sun-browned  skin,  that  added  so  much  to  the 
whiteness  of  her  even  teeth,  and  to  the  brilliancy  of  her  soft 
brown  eyes.     In  a  dreamy  way  she  was  looking  far  out  through 


300  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

the  window  and  away  off  toward  the  distant  hills.  She,  too, 
set  me  wondering;  was  she  thinking  of  Son-in-law P 

At  that  moment,  however,  the  pig  gave  another  impatient 
grunt  which  startled  Athabasca  and  caused  her  to  look  directly 
at  me  ...  I  blushed  scarlet,  then;  so  did  she — but,  of 
course,  only  out  of  sympathy. 

"Yes,  we'll  send  her  to  that  finishing  school  in  Toronto," 
her  mother  mused,  while  Free  Trader  Spear  scratched  his  head 
once  more,  and  three  house  flies  lazily  sat  on  the  sugar  bowl 
and  hummed  a  vulgar  tune. 

After  dinner  Mr.  Spear  invited  me  into  the  trading  room  to 
see  some  of  the  furs  he  had  secured.  Among  them  were  four 
silver  fox  skins  as  well  as  the  black  one  he  had  bought  from 
Oo-koo-hoo.    They  were  indeed  fine  skins. 

It  was  now  time  for  me  to  take  my  departure,  so  I  returned 
to  the  living  room,  but  found  no  one  there.  Presently,  how- 
ever, Mrs.  Spear  entered,  and  though  she  sat  down  opposite  me, 
she  never  once  looked  my  way.  She  seemed  agitated  about 
something.  Clasping  her  fingers  together,  she  twirled  her 
thumbs  about  one  another,  then  she  twirled  them  back  the 
other  way;  later  she  took  to  tapping  her  moccasined  toe  upon 
the  bare  floor.  I  wondered  what  was  coming.  I  couldn't 
make  it  out.  For  all  the  while  she  was  looking  at  a  certain 
crack  in  the  floor.  Once  more  she  renewed  the  twirhng  action 
of  her  thumbs,  and  even  increased  the  action  of  her  toe  upon 
the  floor. 

What  did  it  all  mean?  Had  I  done  anything  to  displease 
her.^  No;  I  could  think  of  nothing  of  the  sort,  so  I  felt  a  Httle 
easier.  Suddenly,  however,  she  glanced  up  and,  looking 
straight  at  me,  began: 

"Mr.  Heming  ...  we  have  only  one  child  .  .  . 
and  we  love  her  dearly    .     .     ." 

But  the  pause  that  followed  was  so  long  drawn  out  that  I 
began  to  lose  interest,  especially  as  the  flies  were  once  more 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  301 

humming  the  same  old  tune.  A  little  later,  however,  I  was 
almost  startled  when  Mrs.  Spear  exclaimed: 

"But  m  lend  you  a  photograph  of  Athabasca  for  six 
weeks!" 

Thereupon  Mrs.  Spear  left  her  chair  and  going  upstairs 
presently  returned  with  a  photograph  wrapped  in  a  silk 
handkerchief;  and  as  at  that  very  moment  the  Free  Trader  and 
his  daughter  entered  the  room,  I,  without  comment,  shpped 
the  photograph  into  my  inside  pocket,  and  wished  them  all 
good-bye;  though  they  insisted  upon  walking  down  to  the 
landing  to  wave  me  farewell  on  my  way  to  Fort  Consolation. 

MUSTERING  THE  FUR  BRIGADE 

Next  morning,  soon  after  dawn,  the  church  bells  were  ringing 
and  everyone  was  up  and  astir;  and  presently  all  were  on  their 
way  to  one  or  another  of  the  Uttle  log  chapels  on  the  hill;  where, 
a  little  later,  they  saw  the  stalwart  men  of  the  Fur  Brigade 
kneeling  before  the  altar  as  they  partook  of  the  holy  sacra- 
ment before  starting  upon  their  voyage  to  the  frontier  of 
civihzation. 

Strange,  isn't  it,  that  the  writers  of  northern  novels  never 
depict  a  scene  Hke  that?  Probably  because  they  have  never 
been  inside  a  northern  church. 

Next,  breakfasts  were  hurriedly  eaten,  then  the  voyageurs 
assembled  upon  the  beach  placed  those  big,  beautifully  formed, 
six-fathom  canoes  upon  the  water,  and  paddled  them  to  the 
landing.  Then  Chief  Factor  Thompson  and  Factor  Mackenzie 
joined  the  throng;  and  that  veteran  voyageur,  Oo-koo-hoo,  who 
was  to  command  the  Fur  Brigade,  touched  his  hat  and  con- 
versed with  the  officers.  A  few  moments  later  the  old  guide 
waved  his  swarthy  men  into  line.  From  them  he  chose  the 
bowmen,  calling  each  by  name,  and  motioning  them  to  rank 
beside  him;  then,  in  turn,  each  bowman  selected  a  man  for  his 


302  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

crew;  until,  for  each  of  the  eight  canoes,  eight  men  were  chosen. 
Then  work  began. 

Some  went  off  with  tump-hne  in  hand  to  the  warehouse, 
ascended  the  massive  stairs,  and  entered  the  fur  loft.  Tiers  of 
empty  shelves  circled  the  room,  where  the  furs  were  stored 
during  the  winter;  but  upon  the  floor  were  stacked  packs  of 
valuable  pel  ts — the  harvest  of  the  fur  trade.  The  old-fashioned 
scales,  the  collapsible  mould,  and  the  giant  fur  press  told  of  the 
work  that  had  been  done.  Every  pack  weighed  eighty  pounds. 
Loading  up,  they  rapidly  carried  the  fur  to  the  landing.  In  the 
storeroom  the  voyageurs  gathered  up  the  "tripping"  kit  of 
paddles,  tents,  axes,  tarpaulins,  sponges;  and  a  box  for  each 
crew  contedning  frying-pans,  tea  pails,  tin  plates,  and  tea-dishes. 
In  the  trading  room  the  crews  were  supplied  with  provisions  of 
flour,  pork,  and  tea,  at  the  rate  of  three  pounds  a  day  for  each 
man.  They  were  also  given  tobacco.  Most  of  the  voyageurs 
received  "advances"  from  the  clerk  in  the  way  of  clothing, 
knives,  pipes,  and  things  deemed  essential  for  the  voyage. 
Birch  bark,  spruce  roots,  and  gum  were  supplied  for  repairing 
the  canoes. 

All  was  now  in  readiness.  The  loading  of  freight  began,  and 
when  each  canoe  had  received  its  allotted  cargo  the  voyageurs 
indulged  in  much  handshaking  with  their  friends,  a  httle  quiet 
talking  and  affectionate  kissing  with  their  famihes  and  sweet- 
hearts. Then,  paddle  in  hand,  they  boarded  their  canoes  and 
took  their  places. 

In  manning  a  six-fathom  canoe  the  bowman  is  always  the 
most  important;  the  steersman  comes  next  in  rank,  while  the 
others  are  called  "midmen." 

DEPARTURE   OF   THE  FUR   BRIGADE 

Factor  Mackenzie  and  his  senior  officer,  sitting  in  the 
guide's  or  chief  voyageur's  canoe,  which,  of  course,  was  Oo-koo- 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  303 

hoo's,  gave  the  word;  and  all  together  the  paddle  blades  dipped, 
the  water  swirled,  and  on  the  gunwales  the  paddle  handles 
thudded  as  the  canoes  heaved  away. 

The  going  and  coming  of  the  Fur  Brigade  was  the  one 
great  event  of  the  year  to  those  nomadic  people  who  stood 
watching  and  waving  to  the  fast-vanishing  flotilla.  Were 
they  not  bidding  farewell  to  fathers,  husbands,  brothers,  sons, 
or  lovers,  chosen  as  the  best  men  from  their  village?  Had  they 
not  lent  a  hand  in  the  winning  of  the  treasure  that  was  floating 
away?  If  only  the  pelts  in  those  packs  could  speak,  what 
tales  they  would  unfold! 

As  I  looked  back  the  animated  picture  of  the  httle  settlement 
wherein  we  figured  but  a  moment  before  gradually  faded  into 
distance.  The  wild-looking  assembly  was  blotted  from  the 
shore.  But  stiU  above  the  rapidly  dwindling  buildings  waved 
the  flag  of  the  oldest  chartered  trading  association  in  the  world 
— ^the  Hudson's  Bay  Company. 

Between  eleven  and  twelve  o'clock  the  brigade  went  ashore 
for  a  "snack."  The  canoes  were  snubbed  to  overhanging  trees, 
and  upon  a  rocky  flat  the  fires  burned.  Hurriedly  drinking 
the  hot  tea,  the  men  seized  pieces  of  frying  pork  and,  placing 
them  upon  their  broken  bannock,  ravenously  devoured  both 
as  they  returned  to  the  canoes.  No  time  was  lost.  Away  we 
went  again.  Then  the  brigade  would  paddle  incessantly  for 
about  two  hours;  then  they  would  "speU",  and  paddles  were 
laid  aside  "one  smoke."  As  the  way  slackened  the  steersmen 
bunched  the  canoes.  The  soft,  rich  voices  of  the  crews  blended 
as  they  quietly  chatted  and  joked  and  laughed  together. 

Later,  a  stem  wind  came  along.  Nearing  an  island,  some 
of  the  men  went  ashore  and  cut  a  mast  and  sprit-sail  boom  for 
each  canoe.  They  lashed  the  masts  to  the  thwarts  with  tump- 
lines,  and  rigged  the  tarpaulins,  used  to  cover  the  packs,  into 
sails.  Again  the  paddles  were  shipped,  save  those  of  the  steers- 
men; and  the  crews  lounged  about,  either  smoking  or  drowsing. 


304  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

The  men  were  weary.  Last  night  they  had  danced  both  hard 
and  long,  with  dusky  maids — as  all  true  voyageurs  do  on  the 
eve  of  their  departure.  To  voyageurs  stern  winds  are  blessings. 
Mile  after  mile  the  wild  flotilla  swept  along.  Sunshine  danced 
upon  the  rippling  waves  that  gurgled  and  lapped  as  the  bows 
overreached  them.  Rugged  islands  of  moss-covered  rock 
and  evergreen  trees  rose  on  every  side.  The  wind  favoured  us 
for  about  five  miles,  then  shifted.  Reluctantly  the  sails  were 
let  down,  and  masts  and  booms  tossed  overboard.  At  four 
o'clock  the  brigade  landed  on  a  pretty  island,  and  a  hurried 
afternoon  tea  was  taken;  after  which  we  again  paddled  on,  and 
at  sundown  halted  to  pitch  camp  for  the  night. 

CAMP  OF  THE  FUR  BRIGADE 

The  canoes — ^held  off  shore  so  as  not  to  damage  them  by 
touching  the  beach — ^were  unloaded  by  men  wading  in  the 
water.  The  fur  packs  were  neatly  piled  and  covered  with 
tarpaulins.  Then  the  canoes  were  hfted  off  the  water,  and 
carried  ashore,  and  turned  upside-down  for  the  night.  Tents 
were  erected  and  campfires  Ut.  Upon  a  thick  carpet  of  ever- 
green brush  the  blankets  were  spread  in  the  tents.  The  tired 
men  sat  in  the  smoke  at  the  fires  and  ate  their  suppers  round 
which  black  flies  and  mosquitoes  hovered. 

Canadian  voyageurs,  being  well  used  to  both  fasting  and 
feasting,  display  great  appetites  when  savoury  food  is  plentiful, 
and  though  I  have  seen  much  feasting  and  heard  astonishing 
tales  of  great  eating,  I  feel  I  cannot  do  better  than  quote  the 
foUowing,  as  told  by  Charles  Mair,  one  of  the  co-authors  of 
that  reHable  book  "Through  the  Mackenzie  Basin": 

"I  have  already  hinted  at  those  masterpieces  of  voracity  for 
which  the  region  is  renowned;  yet  the  undoubted  facts  related 
around  our  campfires,  and  otherwise,  a  few  of  which  follow, 
almost  beggar  belief.    Mr.  Young,  of  our  party,  an  old  Hud- 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  305 

son's  Bay  officer,  knew  of  sixteen  trackers  who,  in  a  few  days, 
consumed  eight  hears,  two  moose,  two  hags  of  pemmican,  two 
sacks  of  flour,  and  three  sacks  of  potatoes.  Bishop  Grouard 
vouched  for  four  men  eating  a  reindeer  at  a  sitting.  Our  friend, 
Mr.  d'Eschamhault,  once  gave  Oskinnegu, — *The  Young 
Man' — six  poimds  of  pemmican.  He  ate  it  all  at  a  meal, 
washing  it  down  with  a  gallon  of  tea,  and  then  complained 
that  he  had  not  had  enough.  Sir  George  Simpson  states  that 
at  Athabasca  Lake,  in  1820,  he  was  one  of  a  party  of  twelve 
who  ate  twenty-two  geese  and  three  ducks  at  a  single  meal. 
But,  as  he  says,  they  had  been  three  whole  days  without  food. 
The  Saskatchewan  folk,  however,  known  of  old  as  the  Gens  de 
Blaireaux — *The  People  of  the  Badger  Holes' — ^were  not 
behind  their  congeners.  That  man  of  weight  and  might,  our 
old  friend  Chief  Factor  Belanger,  once  served  out  to  thirteen 
men  a  sack  of  pemmican  weighing  ninety  pounds.  It  was 
enough  for  three  days;  but  there  and  then  they  sat  down  and 
consumed  it  all  at  a  single  meal,  not,  it  must  be  added,  without 
some  subsequent  and  just  pangs  of  indigestion.  Mr.  B.,  having 
occasion  to  pass  the  place  of  eating,  and  finding  the  sack  of 
pemmican,  as  he  supposed,  in  his  path,  gave  it  a  kick;  but,  to 
his  amazement,  it  bounded  aloft  several  feet,  and  then  lit. 
It  was  empty!  When  it  is  remembered  that  in  the  old  bu£falo 
days  the  daily  ration  per  head  at  the  Company's  prairie  posts 
was  eight  pounds  of  fresh  meat,  which  was  all  eaten,  its  equiva- 
lent being  two  pounds  of  pemmican,  the  enormity  of  this 
Gargantuan  feast  may  be  imagined.  But  we  ourselves  were 
not  bad  hands  at  the  trencher.  In  fact,  we  were  always  hungry. 
So  I  do  not  reproduce  the  foregoing  facts  as  a  reproach,  but 
rather  as  a  meagre  tribute  to  the  prowess  of  the  great  of  old — 
the  men  of  unbounded  stomach  I" 

And  yet,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  fat  men  are  seldom  seen  in 
the  northern  wilderness.  That  is  something  movie  directors 
should  remember. 


306  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

Peimnican,  though  little  used  nowadays,  was  formerly  the 
mainstay  of  the  voyageurs.  It  was  made  of  the  flesh  of  buffalo, 
musk-ox,  moose,  caribou,  wapiti,  beaver,  rabbit,  or  ptEmnigan; 
and  for  ordinary  use  was  composed  of  66  per  cent,  of  dried  meat 
pounded  fine  to  34  per  cent,  of  hard  fat  boiled  and  strained. 
A  finer  quality  of  pemmican  for  officers  or  travellers  was  com- 
posed of  60  per  cent,  of  dried  meat  pounded  extra  fine  and 
sifted;  33  per  cent,  of  grease  taken  from  marrow  bones  boiled 
and  strained;  5  per  cent,  of  dried  Saskatoon  berries;  2  per  cent, 
of  dried  choke  cherries,  and  sugar  according  to  taste.  The 
pounded  meat  was  placed  in  a  large  wooden  trough  and,  being 
spread  out,  hot  grease  was  poured  over  it  and  then  stirred  until 
thoroughly  mixed  with  the  meat.  Then,  after  first  letting  it 
cool  somewhat,  the  whole  was  packed  into  leather  bags,  and, 
with  the  aid  of  wooden  mallets,  driven  down  into  a  soHd  mass, 
when  the  bags  were  sewn  up  and  flattened  out  and  left  to  cool; 
during  the  cooKng  precaution  was  taken  to  turn  the  bags  every 
five  minutes  to  prevent  the  grease  setthng  too  much  to  one  side. 
Pemmican  was  packed  50,  80,  or  100  lb.  in  a  bag — according 
to  the  difficulty  of  transporting  it  through  the  country  in 
which  it  was  to  be  used.  The  best  pemmican  was  made  from 
buffalo  meat,  and  2  lb.  of  buffalo  penmiican  was  considered 
equal  to  2|  lb.  of  moose  or  3  lb.  of  caribou  pemmican. 

Later,  a  cool  sunset  breeze  from  over  the  water  blew  the  little 
tormentors  away,  and  then  it  was  that  those  swarthy  men  en- 
joyed their  rest.  After  supper  some  made  bannock  batter  in 
the  mouths  of  floiu'-sacks,  adding  water,  salt,  and  baking 
powder.  This  they  worked  into  balls  and  spread  out  in  sizzling 
pans  arranged  obhquely  before  the  fire  with  a  bed  of  coals  at  the 
back  of  each.  It  was  an  enlivening  scene.  Great  roaring  fires 
sent  glowing  sparks  high  into  the  still  night  air,  lighting  up  the 
trees  with  their  intense  glare,  and  casting  weird  shadows  upon 
the  surrounding  tents  and  bushes.  Picturesque,  wild-looking 
men  laughed,  talked,  and  gesticulated  at  one  another.     A  few 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  307 

with  capotes  off  were  sitting  close  to  the  fires,  and  flipping  into 
the  air  the  browning  flap-jacks  that  were  to  be  eaten  the  follow- 
ing day.  Others,  with  hoods  over  their  heads,  lolled  back  from 
the  fire  smoking  their  pipes — and  by  the  way,  novelists  and 
movie  directors  and  actors  should  know  that  the  natives  of  the 
northern  wilderness,  both  white  and  red,  do  not  smoke  cigarettes ; 
they  smoke  pipes  and  nothing  else.  Some  held  their  moccasins 
before  the  fire  to  dry,  or  arranged  their  blankets  for  tm-ning  in. 
Others  slipped  away  under  cover  of  darkness  to  rub  pork  rinds 
on  the  bottom  of  their  canoes,  for  there  was  much  rivalry  as  to 
the  speed  of  the  crews.  Still  more  beautiful  grows  the  scene, 
when  the  June  moon  rises  above  the  trees  and  tips  with  flicker- 
ing hght  the  running  waves. 

Sauntering  from  one  crew's  fire  to  another,  I  listened  for  a 
while  to  the  talking  and  laughing  of  the  voyageurs,  but  hearing 
no  thrilling  tales  or  even  a  humorous  story  by  that  noted 
romancer  Old  BiUy  Brass,  I  went  over  and  sat  down  at  the 
ofl&cers'  fire,  where  Chief  Factor  Thompson  was  discussing  old 
days  and  ways  with  his  brother  trader. 

THE   LONGEST   BRIGADE   ROUTES 

After  a  Httle  while  I  asked: 

"What  was  the  longest  route  of  the  old-time  canoe  and  boat 
brigades?" 

"There  were  several  very  long  ones,"  repHed  Mr.  Thompson, 
"for  instance,  the  one  from  Montreal  to  Vancouver,  a  distance 
of  about  three  thousemd  miles;  also  the  one  from  York  Factory 
on  Hudson  Bay  to  the  Queen  Charlotte  Islands,  and  another 
from  York  Factory  to  the  Mackenzie  River  posts.  Some  of  the 
portages  on  the  main  highway  of  canoe  travel  were  rather  long, 
for  instance,  the  one  at  Portage  La  Loche  was  twelve  miles 
in  length  and  over  it  everything  had  to  be  carried  on  man  back. 

"  In  winter  time,  travel  was  by  way  of  snowshoes,  dog-sled. 


308  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

or  jumper.  A  jumper  is  a  low,  short,  strong  sleigh  set  upon 
heavy  wooden  runners  and  hauled  by  ox,  horse,  men,  or  dogs. 
The  freight  load  per  dog — as  you  know — is  a  hundred  pounds; 
per  man,  one  to  two  hundred  pounds;  per  horse,  four  to  six  hun- 
dred pounds;  and  per  ox,  five  to  seven  hundred  pounds.  In 
summer  there  were  the  canoe,  York  boat,  sturgeon-head  scow, 
and  Red  River  cart  brigades.  A  six-fathom  canoe  carries  from 
twenty  to  thirty  packages;  a  York  boat,  seventy-five  packages; 
a  Sturgeon-head  scow,  one  hundred  packages;  and  a  Red  River 
cart,  six  hundred  pounds.  The  carts  were  made  entirely  of 
wood  and  leather  and  were  hauled  by  horse  or  ox.  With  every 
brigade  went  the  wife  of  one  of  the  voyageurs  to  attend  to  the 
mending  of  the  voyageurs'  clothing  and  to  look  after  the  com- 
fort of  the  officer  in  charge.  But  the  voyageurs  always  had  to 
do  their  own  cooking  and  washing. 

"In  the  old  days,  too,  much  of  their  food  had  to  be  procured 
from  the  country  through  which  they  travelled  and  therefore 
they  rehed  upon  buffalo,  moose,  wapiti,  deer,  bear,  beaver, 
rabbit,  fish,  and  water-fowl  to  keep  them  in  plenty." 

Then  for  a  while  the  Factors  sat  smoking  in  silence.  The 
moon  had  mounted  higher  and  was  now  out  of  sight  behind  the 
tops  of  the  neighbouring  trees,  but  its  reflection  was  brilliantly 
rippled  upon  the  water.  At  one  of  the  fires  a  French  half- 
breed  was  singing  in  a  rich  barytone  one  of  the  old  chansons  that 
were  so  much  in  vogue  among  the  voyageurs  of  by-gone  days — 
A  la  Claire  Fontaine,  After  an  encore,  silence  again  held 
sway,  until  around  another  fire  hearty  laughter  began  to  play. 

"The  boys  over  there  must  be  yarning  again,"  remarked,  the 
Chief  Factor,  as  he  pointed  with  his  pipe,  "let's  go  over,  and  Hsten 
awhile." 

BILLY  BRASS   TELLS   ANOTHER   STORY 

It  was  Oo-koo-hoo's  fire  and  among  his  men  was  seated  that 
ever-welcome   member   of   another   crew — Old  Billy  Brass. 


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§■ 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  309 

Evidently  he  had  just  finished  telling  one  of  his  mirth-provok- 
ing stories,  as  the  men  were  good-naturedly  questioning  him 
about  it;  for,  as  we  sat  down,  he  continued: 

"Yes,  sir,  it's  true;  fire  attraks  'em.  Why,  I've  knowed  'em 
come  from  miles  round  when  they  catched  a  glimpse  of  it,  an' 
as  long  as  there's  danger  o'  white  bears  bein'  round  you'll  never 
again  find  Old  Billy  Brass  tryin'  to  sleep  beside  a  big  fire.  No, 
sir,  not  even  if  His  Royal  Highness  the  Commissioner  or 
His  Lordship  the  Bishop  gives  the  word." 

Then  he  sat  there  slowly  drawing  upon  his  pipe  with  ap- 
parently no  intention  of  adding  a  single  word  to  what  he 
had  already  said.  Lest  something  interesting  should  be  lost, 
I  ventured: 

"Was  it  the  Bishop  or  the  Commissioner  that  made  the 
trouble.^" 

"No,  sir,  neither;  'twas  the  Archdeacon,"  rephed  the  old 
man  as  he  withdrew  his  pipe  and  rubbed  his  smarting  eyes  clear 
of  the  smoke  from  the  blazing  logs.  Taking  a  few  short  draws 
at  the  tobacco,  he  continued: 

"There  was  three  of  us,  me  an'  Archdeacon  Lofty  an' 
Captain  Hawser,  who  was  commandin'  one  of  the  Company's 
boats  that  was  a-goin'  to  winter  in  Hudson  Bay.  It  happened 
in  September.  The  three  of  us  was  hoofin'  it  along  the  great 
barren  shore  o'  the  bay.  In  some  places  the  shore  was  that  flat 
that  every  time  the  tide  came  in  she  flooded  'bout  all  the 
country  we  could  see,  an'  we  had  a  devil  of  a  time  tryin'  to  keep 
clear  o'  the  mud.  We  had  a  few  dogs  along  to  help  pack  our 
beddin',  but,  nevertheless,  it  was  hard  work;  for  we  was 
carryin'  most  of  our  outfit  on  our  backs. 

"One  evenin'  just  before  sundown  we  stimibled  upon  a  lot 
o'  driftwood  scattered  all  about  the  flats.  As  so  much  wood 
was  lyin'  around  handy,  we  decided  to  spend  the  night  on  a 
little  knoll  that  rose  above  high-water  mark.  For  the  last 
few  days  we  had  seen  so  Httle  wood  that  any  of  our  fires  could 


310  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

'a'  been  built  in  a  hat.  Rut  that  night  the  sight  o'  so  much  wood 
fairly  set  the  Archdeacon  crazy  with  delight,  an'  nothin'  would 
do  but  we  must  have  a  great  roarin'  fire  to  sleep  by.  I  would 
have  enjoyed  a  good  warmin'  as  well  as  any  one,  but  I  was 
mighty  leary  about  bavin'  a  big  fire.  So  I  cautioned  the 
Archdeacon  not  to  use  much  wood  as  there  was  Hkely  to  be 
bears  about,  an'  that  no  matter  how  far  off  they  was,  if  they 
saw  that  fire  they  would  make  for  it — even  if  they  was  five  or  six 
miles  out  on  the  ice  floes.  He  wouldn't  listen  to  me.  The 
Captain  backed  him  up,  an'  they  both  set  to  an'  built  a  fire 
as  big  as  a  tepee. 

"We  was  pretty  well  tuckered  out  from  the  day's  walkin'. 
So  after  supper  we  dried  our  moccasins  an'  was  about  to 
turn  in  early  when — ^lo  an'  behold! — ^the  Archdeacon  got  up 
an'  piled  more  wood  upon  the  fire.  That  made  me  mad;  for 
unless  he  was  huntin'  for  trouble  he  couldn't  'a'  done  a  thing 
more  foolish,  an'  I  says  somethin'  to  that  effect.  He  comes 
back  at  me  as  though  I  was  afraid  o'  me  own  shadder,  an'  says: 
*Rilly  Rrass,  I'm  s'prised  that  a  man  like  you  doesn't  put 
more  faith  in  prayin'  an'  trustin'  hisself  in  the  hands  o'  the 
Almighty.' 

"  I  was  so  hot  over  the  foolishness  of  bavin'  such  a  big  fire  that 
I  ups  an'  says: 

"  'That  may  be  all  right  for  you,  sir,  but  I  prefer  to  use  my 
wits  first,  an'  trust  in  Providence  afterwards.' 

"Nothin'  more  was  said,  an'  we  all  turns  in.  I  didn't  like 
the  idea  of  every  one  goin'  to  sleep  with  a  fire  so  big  that  it  was 
showin'  itself  for  miles  aroun',  so  I  kep'  myself  awake.  I 
wasn't  exactly  thinkin'  that  somethin'  really  serious  was  goin' 
to  happen,  but  I  was  just  wishin'  it  would,  just  to  teach  the 
Archdeacon  a  lesson.  As  time  went  on  I  must  'a'  done  a 
Httle  dozin';  for  when  I  looks  up  at  the  Dipper  again,  I  leams 
from  its  angle  with  the  North  Star  that  it  was  already  after 
midnight.    An' — ^would  you  beheve  it? — ^that  fire  was  still 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  311 

blazin'  away  nearly  as  big  as  ever.  The  heat  seemed  to  make 
me  drowsy,  for  I  began  to  doze  once  more.  All  at  once  I  heard 
the  dogs  blowin'  so  hard " 

"Blowing?" 

"Yes,  that's  right;  they  were  blowin';  for  geddies  don't 
bark  like  other  dogs  when  they're  frightened.  Well,  as  I  was 
sayin',  they  were  blowin'  so  hard  that  my  hair  nearly  stood  on 
end.  Like  a  shot  I  throws  off  me  blanket  an'  jmnps  to  me 
feet,  for  I  knowed  what  was  comin'.  The  Captain  an'  the 
Archdeacon  heard  them,  too,  an'  we  all  grabbed  at  once  for  the 
only  gun,  a  single-barrelled  muzzle-loader. 

"As  iU  luck  would  have  it,  the  Archdeacon  was  nearest  to 
that  gun  an'  grabbed  it,  an'  by  the  time  we  was  straightened 
up  we  sees  a  great  big  white  bear  rushin'  at  us.  Quick  as 
thought  the  Archdeacon  points  the  gim  at  the  bear  an'  pulls 
the  trigger,  but  the  hammer  only  snaps  upon  the  bare  nipple; 
for  the  cap  had  tumbled  off  in  the  scramble.  There  was  no 
time  for  re-cappin';  so,  bein'  the  nearest  to  the  chargin'  bear, 
the  Archdeacon  just  drops  the  old  gun  an'  runs  for  dear  life 
around  that  fire  with  me  an'  the  Captin  followin'  close  behind 
him. 

"When  I  seen  the  way  the  Archdeacon  an'  the  Captin  went 
a  sailin'  round  that  fire,  it  fairly  took  me  breath  away;  for 
somehow  I  never  had  any  idea  that  them  two  old  cripples  had 
so  much  speed  left  in  'em.  An'  you  can  bet  it  kep'  me  un- 
usually busy  bringin'  up  the  rear;  an',  anyway,  the  feelin' 
that  the  bear  was  for  ever  snappin'  at  me  coat-tails  kep'  me 
from  takin'  things  too  easy. 

"Well,  we  tore  round  an'  round  an'  round  that  fire  so  dang 
many  times  that  we  was  not  only  rapidly  losin'  our  wind  but  we 
was  beginnin'  to  get  dizzy  into  the  bargain.  All  the  time  we 
could  hear  the  great  beast  thunderin'  after  us,  yet  we  daren't 
slacken  our  pace;  no,  sir,  not  even  enough  to  take  a  single 
glance  behind  just  to  see  which  was  gainin'.    It  was  a  sure 


312  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

case  of  life  or  death,  but  principally  death;  an'  you  can  depend 
on  it  we  wasn't  takin'  any  chances. 

"Me  an'  the  Captin  was  crowdin'  so  close  upon  the  Arch- 
deacon's heels  that  in  his  terror  lest  we  should  pass  him  by  he 
ups  an'  sets  the  pace  at  such  a  tremendous  speed  that  the 
whole  three  of  us  actually  catches  up  to  the  bear  .  .  .  without 
the  brute's  knowin'  it.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  the  Archdeacon 
steppin'  on  the  sole  of  the  bear's  upturned  left  hind  foot  as  the 
hungry  beast  was  gallopin'  round  the  fire  .  .  .  we'd  have 
been  runnin'  a  good  deal  longer. 

"Well,  sir,  if  you  had  just  seen  how  fooHsh  that  bear  looked 
when  he  discovered  that  we  was  chasin'  him  instead  of  him 
chasin'  us,  you'd  have  died  laughin'.  Why,  he  was  the  most 
bewildered  an'  crest-fallen  animal  I  ever  did  see.  But  he  soon 
regained  his  wits  an' — evidently  calculatin'  that  his  only 
salvation  layed  in  his  overhaulin'  us — ^ht  out  at  a  saprisin' 
gait  in  a  grand  effort  to  leave  us  far  enough  behind  for  him  to 
catch  up  to  us.  But  it  didn't  work;  for  by  that  time  we  had  all 
got  our  second  wind  an'  he  soon  realized  that  we  was  de- 
termined not  to  be  overhauled  from  the  rear.  So  he  set  to 
ponderin'  what  was  really  the  best  thing  for  him  to  do;  an'  then 
he  did  it. 

"You  must  understand  that  we  was  so  close  upon  his  heels 
that  there  wasn't  room  for  him  to  stop  an'  turn  around  without 
us  all  faUin'  on  top  of  him.  So  what  do  you  think  the  cuimin' 
brute  did?  Why,  he  just  hauled  off  an'  kicked  out  behind  with 
his  right  hind  foot,  an'  hit  the  Archdeacon  a  smashin'  blow 
square  on  his  stomach,  an'  knocked  him  bang  against  the 
Captin  an'  the  Captin  against  me,  an'  me  against  the  dogs;  an' 
we  all  went  down  in  a  heap  beside  the  fire. 

"Well,  sir,  that  old  brute  had  put  so  much  glad  an'  earnest 
energy  into  its  kick  that  it  knocked  the  wind  plum  out  of  every 
one  of  us,  an'  for  the  next  few  seconds  there  was  a  mess  of  arms 
an'  legs  an'  tails  frantically  tryin'  to  disentangle  themselves. 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  313 

But,  as  good  luck  would  have  it,  I  went  down  upon  the  gun. 
As  I  rose  to  my  feet,  I  slipped  a  cap  on  the  nipple  just  as  the 
bear  comes  chargin'  around  the  fire  facing  us.  I  ups  an'  lets 
him  have  it  full  in  the  mouth.  The  shot  nearly  stunned  him. 
While  he  was  clawin'  the  pain  in  his  face  I  had  time  to  re-load, 
an'  lets  him  have  it  behind  the  ear,  an'  he  drops  dead  without 
a  whimper. 

"Then — would  you  beUeve  it? — the  Archdeacon  goes  up  to 
the  shaggy  carcass,  puts  his  foot  on  the  bear's  head,  an'  stands 
there  lookin'  for  all  the  world  like  British  Columbia  discoverin' 
America,  an'  says: 

"  'There,  now,  Billy  Brass,  I  hope  you  have  learned  a  lesson. 
Next  time  you  will  know  where  to  place  your  trust.' 

"Well,  sir,  the  way  he  was  lettin'  on  that  he  had  saved  the 
whole  outfit  made  me  mad.     So  I  ups  an'  says: 

"  *Yes,  sir,  an'  if  I  hadn't  put  me  trust  in  me  gun,  there  would 
have  been  another  Archdeacon  in  heaven. ' " 

THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  WOODSMEN 

It  was  now  growing  late.  For  a  while  the  smiling  Indians, 
half-breeds,  and  white  men  smoked  in  silence;  then  one  after 
another,  each  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  arose,  stretched 
himself,  and  sauntered  off  to  his  bed,  whether  in  a  tent,  under  a 
canoe,  or  in  the  open.  Walking  down  to  the  water's  edge  I 
watched  the  moonhght  for  a  while,  then  passsd  quietly  from  one 
smouldering  fire  to  another.  Some  of  the  men  were  still  talking 
together  in  low  tones  so  as  not  to  disturb  those  who  were 
already  seeking  slumber,  while  others  were  arranging  their 
bedding;  and  still  others  were  devoutly  kneeling  in  prayer  to 
The  Master  of  Life. 

Thus  during  the  four  seasons  of  the  year  I  had  hved  with  and 
observed  the  men  of  the  northern  wilderness;  and  not  only  had 
I  learned  to  like  and  respect  them,  but  to  admire  their  gene- 


314  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

rosity  and  honesty,  their  simplicity  and  skill,  their  gentleness 
and  prowess;  and,  above  all,  to  honour  their  spiritual  attitude 
toward  this  world  and  the  next.  How  different  they  were 
from  the  city  dwellers'  conception  of  them!  Rut  still  you  may 
want  further  proof.  You  may  want  first-hand  knowledge  of 
those  northern  men.  You  may  want  to  study  their  minds  and 
to  look  into  their  hearts.  Then  may  I  ask  you  to  read  the 
following  letter,  written  a  few  years  ago  by  an  old  Canadian 
woodsman — Mr.  A.  R.  Carleton — ^who  was  born  and  bred  in 
the  northern  wilderness.  Then  you  may  become  better  ac- 
quainted with  at  least  one  of  the  men  I  have  been  trying  to 
picture  to  you. 

"  I  was  born  in  the  heart  of  the  northern  forest,  and  in  my 
wanderings  my  steps  have  ever  gone  most  wilhngly  back 
toward  the  pine-covered  hills  and  the  grassy  glades  that  slope 
down  to  cool,  deep  waters.  The  wanderlust  has  carried  me 
far,  but  the  lakes  and  waterfalls,  the  bluffs  and  the  bays  of  the 
great  northern  No-Man's  Land  are  my  home,  and  with  Mukwa 
the  bear,  Mah-en-gin  the  wolf,  Wash-gish  the  red  deer,  and 
Ah-Meek  the  beaver,  I  have  much  consorted  and  have  found 
their  company  quite  to  my  Hking. 

"Rut  the  fates  have  so  dealt  with  me  that  for  two  years  I 
have  not  been  able  to  see  the  smile  of  Springtime  breaking 
forth  upon  the  rugged  face  of  my  northern  No-Man's  Land.  I 
have  had  glimpses  of  it,  merely,  among  crowded  houses,  out 
of  hospital  windows.  Still,  my  mind  is  native  to  the  forest, 
and  my  thoughts  and  fancies,  breaking  captivity,  go  back,  like 
the  free  wild  things  they  are,  on  bright  days  of  springtime  to  the 
wild  land  where  the  change  of  season  means  what  it  never  can 
mean  in  the  town. 

"What  does  Spring  mean  to  you  town  folk,  anyway?  I  will 
tell  you.  It  means  lighter  clothing,  dust  instead  of  sleet,  the 
transfer  of  your  patronage  from  fuel  man  to  ice  man,  a  few  days 
of  slushy  streets  and  baseball  instead  of  hockey. 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  315 

"What  does  it  mean  to  the  man  of  the  woods?  That  I  will 
try  to  tell  you.  It  means  that  the  deep  snow  which  has  mantled 
hill  and  valley  for  five  months  has  melted  into  brooks  and  rivu- 
lets which  are  plunging  and  splashing  away  to  find  the  ocean 
from  whence  they  came.  It  means  that  the  thick  ice  which 
throughout  the  long  winter  has  imprisoned  the  waters  of 
the  lakes,  is  now  broken,  and  the  waves,  incited  by  the  south 
wind,  are  wreaking  vengeance  by  beating  it  upon  the  rocks  of 
the  northern  shore,  until,  subdued  and  melted,  it  returns  to  be 
a  mere  part  of  the  waves  again.  Instead  of  the  hungry  winter 
howl  of  the  wolf  or  the  whining  snarl  of  the  sneaking  lynx  the 
air  is  now  filled  with  happier  sounds:  ducks  are  quacking;  geese 
are  honking;  waveys  are  cackhng  as  they  fly  northward; 
squirrels  among  the  spruce  trees  chatter  noisily;  on  sandy 
ridges  woodchucks  whistle  excitedly;  back  deep  in  the  birch 
thicket  partridges  are  drumming,  and  all  the  woodland  is 
musical  with  the  song  of  birds. 

"The  trees>  through  whose  bare  branches  the  wind  all  winter 
has  whistled  and  shrieked,  are  now  sending  forth  leaves  of 
tender  green  and  the  voice  of  the  wind  caressing  them  is 
softened  to  a  tone  as  musical  as  the  song  of  birds.  Flowers  are 
springing  up,  not  in  the  rigid  rows  or  precise  squares  of  a 
mechanically  inclined  horticulturist,  but  surprising  one  by 
elbowing  themselves  out  of  the  narrowest  crevices,  or  peeping 
bashfully  out  from  behind  fallen  trees,  or  clinging  almost  up- 
side down  to  the  side  of  an  overhanging  cliflf. 

"My  camp  on  Rainy  Lake  faces  the  south  and  in  front  is 
a  httle  stunted  black  ash  tree,  so  dwarfed,  gnarled,  twisted, 
and  homely  that  it  is  almost  pretty.  I  refrained  from  cutting  it 
down  because  of  its  attractive  deformity.  In  the  springtime, 
a  few  years  ago,  a  pair  of  robins  chose  it  as  their  nesting  place. 
One  bright  Sunday  morning,  as  the  nest  was  in  course  of 
construction,  I  was  sitting  in  my  doorway  watching  the  pair. 
The  brisk  httle  husband  was  hurrying  toward  the  nest  with  a 


316  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

bit  of  moss;  but  the  mild  sun,  the  crisp  air,  the  sweet  breathing 
earth,  the  gently  whispering  trees  seemed  to  make  him  so  very 
happy  he  could  not  but  tell  of  it.  Alighting  on  a  twig  he 
dropped  the  moss,  opened  his  beak,  and  poured  forth  in 
song  the  joy  his  little  body  could  no  longer  contain.  That 
is  the  joy  of  a  northern  No-Man's  Land  in  the  month  of 
May. 

"We  are  so  happy  in  our  woodland  home  that  we  wish  every- 
one might  share  it  with  us.  But  perhaps  some  would  not 
enjoy  what  we  enjoy,  or  see  what  we  see,  and  some  are  pre- 
vented from  coming  by  the  duties  of  other  callings,  and  each 
must  follow  the  pathway  his  feet  are  most  fitted  to  tread.  For 
myself,  I  only  want  my  Httle  log  cabin  with  the  wild  vines  ch'mb- 
ing  over  its  walls  and  clinging  to  the  mud-chinked  crevices, 
where  I  can  hear  the  song  of  wild  birds  mingled  with  the 
sleepy  hum  of  bees  moving  from  blossom  to  blossom  about  the 
doorway;  where  I  can  see  the  timid  red  deer,  as,  peeping  out  of 
the  brush,  it  hesitates  between  the  fear  of  man  and  the  tempta- 
tion of  the  white  clover  growing  in  front  of  my  home,  and  where 
I  can  watch  the  endless  procession  of  waves  following  each  other 
up  the  bay.  Give  me  the  necessity  of  working  for  my  daily 
bread  so  that  I  will  not  feel  as  though  I  were  a  useless  cum- 
brance  upon  the  earth;  allow  me  an  opportunity  now  and  then 
of  doing  a  kindly  act,  even  if  it  be  no  more  than  restoring  to  the 
shelter  of  its  mother's  breast  a  fledgling  that  has  fallen  from 
its  nest  in  a  tree  top.  If  I  may  have  these  I  will  be  happy,  and 
happier  still  if  I  could  know  that  when  the  time  comes  for  me 
to  travel  the  trail,  the  sands  of  which  show  no  imprint  of  re- 
turning footsteps,  that  I  might  be  put  to  rest  on  the  southern 
slope  of  the  ridge  beside  my  camp,  where  the  sunshine  chases 
the  shadows  around  the  birch  tree,  where  the  murmur  of  the 
waves  comes  in  rhythm  to  the  robin's  song,  and  where  the  red 
deer  play  on  moonhght  nights.  Neither  will  I  fear  the  snows 
of  winter  that  come  drifting  over  the  bay,  driven  by  the 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  317 

wind  that  whines  through  the  naked  tree  tops,  nor  the  howl  of 
the  hungry  wolf,  for  what  had  no  terror  for  me  in  life  need  not 
have  afterward.  And  if  the  lessons  that  I  learned  at  my 
mother's  knee  be  true;  if  there  be  that  within  me  that  Uves  on, 
I  am  sure  that  it  will  be  happier  in  its  eternal  home  if  it  may  look 
back  and  know  that  the  body  which  it  had  tried  to  guide 
through  its  earthly  career  was  having  its  long  rest  in  the  spot  it 
loved  best." 

Did  you  ever  meet  a  character  like  that  in  northern  fiction? 
No,  of  course  not;  how  could  you.^  .  .  .  When  the  books 
were  written  by  city-dweUing  men.  Then,  too,  is  not  any  pro- 
duction of  the  creative  arts — a  poem,  a  story,  a  play,  a  painting, 
or  a  statue — but  a  reflection  of  the  composer's  soul?  So  .  .  . 
when  you  read  a  book  filled  with  inhumsui  characters,  you  have 
taken  the  measure  of  the  man  who  wrote  it,  you  have  seen  a 
reflection  of  the  author's  soul.  Furthermore,  when  people 
exclaim :  *  *  What's  the  matter  with  the  movies  ?  "  The  answer 
is:  Nothing  .  .  .  save  that  the  screens  too  often  reflect 
the  degenerate  souls  of  the  movie  directors. 

But  the  Indian — ^how  he  has  been  slandered  for  centuries! 
When  in  reahty  it  is  just  as  Warren,  the  Historian  of  the 
Ojibways,  proclaimed:  "There  was  consequently  less  theft 
and  lying,  more  devotion  to  the  Great  Spirit,  more  obedience 
to  their  parents,  and  more  chastity  in  man  and  woman,  than 
exists  at  the  present  day,  since  their  baneful  intercourse  with 
the  white  race."  And  Heame,  the  northern  traveUer,  ended  a 
similar  contention — ^more  than  a  hundred  years  ago — by  say- 
ing: "It  being  well  known  that  those  who  have  the  least  inter- 
course with  white  men  are  by  far  the  happiest." 

That  night,  as  I  turned  in,  I  had  occasion  to  look  through  my 
kit  bag,  and  there  I  found,  wrapped  in  a  silk  handkerchief, 
the  photograph — lent  to  me  for  six  weeks — of  the  charming 
Athabasca.  Being  alone  in  my  tent,  I  carefully  unfolded 
its  wrapper,  and  drawing  the  candle  a  httle  nearer,  I  gazed 


318  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

at  her  beautiful   face.     Again  I  wondered   about   Son-in- 
law.    .    .    • 


A  RACE  FOR  THE  PORTAGE 

At  three  o'clock  next  morning  the  camp  was  astir.  In  the 
half  light  of  early  day,  and  while  breakfast  was  being  pre- 
pared, the  men  *' gummed"  afresh  the  big  canoes.  Whittling 
handles  to  dry  pinesticks,  they  spUt  the  butts  half  way 
down,  and  placed  that  end  in  the  fire.  After  a  Uttle  burning, 
the  stick  opened  like  a  fork;  and,  placing  it  over  the  broken 
seam,  the  voyageur  blew  upon  the  crotch,  thus  melting  the 
hardened  "gum";  then,  spitting  upon  his  palm,  he  rounded  it 
off  and  smoothed  it  down.  By  the  time  breakfast  was  ready 
the  tents  were  again  stowed  away  in  the  canoes  along  with  the 
valuable  cargoes  of  furs. 

PaddHng  up  the  mist-enshrouded  river  the  canoes  rounded 
a  bend.  There  the  eddying  of  muddy  water  told  that  a  moose 
had  just  left  a  water-lily  bed.  The  leaves  of  the  forest  hid  his 
fleeing  form;  but  on  the  soft  bank  the  water  slowly  trickled 
into  his  deep  hoof-prints,  so  late  was  his  departure.  The 
tracks  of  bear  and  deer  continuously  marked  the  shores,  for  the 
woods  were  full  of  game.  From  the  rushes  startled  ducks  rose 
up  and  whirred  away.  How  varied  was  the  scenery.  Island- 
dotted  lakes,  timber-covered  mountains,  winding  streams  and 
marshy  places;  bold  rocky  gorges  and  mighty  cataracts;  dense 
forests  of  spruce,  tamarack,  poplar,  birch,  and  pine — a  region 
weU  worthy  to  be  the  home  of  either  Nimrod  or  Diana. 

Later  in  the  day,  when  all  the  canoes  were  ranged  side  by 
side,  their  gracefully  curved  bows  came  in  line;  dip,  swirl, 
thud;  dip,  swirl,  thud,  sounded  all  the  paddles  together.  The 
time  was  faultless.  Then  it  was  that  the  picturesque  brigade 
appeared  in  wild  perfection.  Nearing  a  portage,  spontaneously 
a  race  began  for  the  best  landing  place.    Like  contending 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  319 

chargers,  forward  they  bounded  at  every  stroke.  Vigorously 
the  voyageurs  plied  their  paddles.  Stiffening  their  arms  and 
curving  their  backs,  they  bent  the  blades.  Every  muscle  was 
strained.  The  sharp  bows  cleaved  the  lumpy  water,  sending  it 
gurghng  to  the  paddles  that  slashed  it,  and  whirled  it  aside. 
On  they  went.  Now  Oo-koo-hoo's  canoe  was  gaining.  As  that 
brightly  painted  craft  gradually  forged  ahead,  its  swiftly  run- 
ning wake  crept  steadily  along  the  sides  of  the  other  canoes. 
Presently  the  wavelets  were  sounding  "whiff,  whiff,  whiff,"  as 
the  white  bows  crushed  them  down.  Then  at  last  his  canoe 
broke  free  and  lunged  away,  leaving  all  the  brigade  to  foUow 
in  its  broadening  trail.  The  pace  was  too  exhausting;  the 
canoes  strung  out;  but  still  the  narrow  blades  slashed  away,  for 
the  portage  was  at  hand.  With  dangerous  speed  the  first 
canoe  rushed  abreast  of  the  landing,  and  just  as  one  expected 
disaster  the  bowman  gave  the  word.  Instantly  the  crew,  with 
their  utmost  strength,  backed  water.  As  the  canoe  came  to  a 
standstill  the  voyageius  rolled  their  paddle-handles  along  the 
gunwales,  twirhng  the  dripping  blades  and  enveloping  the 
canoe  in  a  veil  of  whirhng  spray.  Then,  jumping  into  the 
shallow  water,  they  lined  up  and  quickly  passed  the  packs 
ashore.  The  moment  the  cargo  was  transferred  to  the  bank, 
the  crew  lifted  the  great  canoe  off  the  water  and  turned  it 
bottom  up,  while  four  of  them  placed  their  heads  beneath  and 
rested  the  gunwales  upon  their  capofe-bepadded  shoulders. 
As  they  carried  it  off,  one  was  reminded  of  some  immense 
antediluvian  reptile  crawling  slowly  over  the  portage  trail. 

There  was  now  much  excitement.  Other  crews  had  arrived, 
and  were  rapidly  unloading.  As  the  landing  was  over-crowded 
the  portaging  began.  Each  man  tied  the  thin,  tapering  ends  of 
his  tump-line — a  fifteen-foot  leather  strap  with  a  broad  centre 
— about  a  pack,  swimg  it  upon  his  back,  and,  bending  forward, 
rested  its  broad  loop  over  his  head.  Upon  the  first  his  com- 
panion placed  two  more  packs;  then,  stooping  beneath  the 


320  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

weight  of  240  pounds,  the  packers  at  a  jog-trot  set  off  uphill 
and  down,  over  rugged  rocks  and  fallen  timber,  through  fern- 
covered  marsh  and  dense  underbrush.  Coming  to  an 
opening  in  the  wood  at  the  far  end  of  the  portage,  they  quickly 
tossed  their  burdens  aside,  and  back  again  they  ran.  Nowhere 
could  one  see  more  wiUing  workers.  You  heard  no  swearing 
or  grumbling  about  the  exceedingly  hard  task  before  them. 
On  the  contrary,  every  man  vied  with  the  rest  as  to  which 
could  carry  the  greatest  load  and  most  swiftly  cross  the  portage. 
Rivalry  sped  the  work  along.  Shirts  and  trousers  reeked  with 
perspiration.  The  voyageurs  puffed  and  panted  as  they  went 
by,  and  no  wonder — the  portage  was  three  quarters  of  a  mile 
in  length. 

Then  away  we  went  again,  and  up,  up,  up,  we  mounted  day 
by  day,  toward  the  height-of-land,  where  a  long  portage  over 
low-lying  marshy  ground  brought  us  to  the  place  where  our 
descent  began;  then  for  days  we  ran  with  the  current  until  it 
entered  a  larger  river,  and  soon  we  found  that  endless  rapids 
interrupted  our  work,  and  down  many  of  them  the  canoes  were 
run.  The  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  however,  never  allows  its 
men  to  shoot  rapids  with  fur-laden  canoes;  so  it  was  on  that 
wild  stretch  of  our  trip  that  the  skill  of  the  voyageur  was  tested 
most. 

FIGHTING   WITH  DEATH 

At  the  head  of  one  of  the  great  rapids  Oo-koo-hoo,  seeing 
that  I  mated  well  with  one  of  his  crew,  invited  me  to  take  a 
paddle  and  help  them  through.  Tossing  in  an  extra  paddle 
for  each  canoeman  we  stepped  aboard,  and  with  a  gentle  shove 
the  current  caught  the  Hght  canoe  and  carried  us  out  to  mid- 
stream. Long  before  we  sighted  white  water  the  roar  of  the 
cataract  was  humming  in  our  ears.  We  midmen  sat  upon 
dunnage  sacks  and  braced  our  moccasined  feet  against 
the  ribbing.    Presently  the  bowman  stood  up  and  scanned 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  321 

the  river.  Dark,  ominous  water  raced  ahead  for  a  hundred 
yards  then  disappeared,  leaving  nothing  but  a  great  surging 
mass  of  white  that  leaped  high  and  dropped  out  of  sight  in  the 
apparently  forsaken  river-bed.  Then  the  steersman  stood 
up,  too,  and  Indian  words  passed  between  them.  Every 
moment  we  were  gaining  impetus,  and  always  heading  for  the 
highest  crest  of  foam.  Waiting  for  the  word  to  paddle  was 
even  worse  than  waiting  for  the  starter's  gun  in  a  scuUing  race. 
At  last.it  came,  just  as  we  were  twenty-five  yards  from  the  end 
of  dark  water.  With  a  wild  shout  from  the  bowman  we  drove 
our  paddles  home.  The  great  canoe  trembled  a  little  at  first, 
as  our  work  was  somewhat  ragged,  but  a  moment  later  we 
settled  into  an  even  stroke  and  swept  buoyantly  among  the 
tossing  billows.  Now  before  us  ran  a  strange  wild  river  of 
seething  white,  lashing  among  great,  gray-capped,  dark  green- 
ish boulders  that  blocked  the  way.  High  rocky  banks  standing 
close  together  squeezed  the  mighty  river  into  a  tumult  of  fury. 
Swiftly  we  gHde  down  the  racing  torrent  and  plunge  through 
the  boiling  waters.  Sharp  rocks  rear  above  the  flying  spray 
while  others  are  barely  covered  by  the  foaming  flood. 
It  is  dangerous  work.  We  midmen  paddle  hard  to  force  the 
canoe  ahead  of  the  current.  The  steersman  in  bow  and  stern 
ply  and  bend  their  great  seven-foot  paddles.  The  bowman 
with  eyes  alert  keenly  watches  the  whirling  waters  and  signs 
of  hidden  rocks  below.  The  roar  of  seething  waters  drowns 
the  bowman's  orders.  The  steersman  closely  watches  and 
foUows  every  move  his  companion  makes.  Down  we  go, 
riding  upon  the  very  back  of  the  river;  for  here  the  water 
forms  a  great  ridge,  rising  four  or  five  feet  above  the  water- 
line  on  either  shore.  To  swerve  to  either  side  means  sure 
destruction.  With  terrific  speed  we  reach  the  brink  of  a 
violent  descent.  For  a  moment  the  canoe  pauses,  steadies 
herself,  then  dips  her  head  as  the  stem  upheaves,  and  down  we 
plunge  among  more  rocks  than  ever.    Right  in  our  path  the 


322  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

angry  stream  is  waging  battle  with  a  hoary  bowlder  that  dis- 
putes the  way.  With  all  its  might  and  fmy  the  frantic  river 
hisses  and  roars  and  lashes  it.  Yet  it  never  moves — it  only 
frowns  destruction  upon  all  that  dares  approach  it. 

How  the  bowman  is  working!  See  his  paddle  bend  I  With 
hghtning  movements  he  jabs  his  great  paddle  deep  into  the 
water  and  close  under  the  left  side  of  the  bow;  then  with  a 
mighty  heave  he  lifts  her  head  around.  The  great  canoe 
swings  as  though  upon  a  pivot;  for  is  not  the  steersman  doing 
exactly  the  very  opposite  at  this  precise  moment?  We  sheer 
off.  But  the  next  instant  the  paddles  are  working  on  the 
opposite  sides,  for  the  bowman  sees  signs  of  a  water-covered 
rock  not  three  yards  from  the  very  bow.  With  a  wild  lunge 
he  strives  to  lift  the  bow  around;  but  the  paddle  snaps  like  a 
rotten  twig.  Instantly  he  grabs  for  another,  and  a  grating 
sound  runs  the  length  of  the  heaving  bottom.  The  next  mo- 
ment he  is  working  the  new  paddle.  A  httle  water  is  coming 
in  but  she  is  running  true.  The  rocks  now  grow  fewer,  but 
stiJJ  there  is  another  pitch  ahead.  Again  the  bow  dips  as  we 
rush  down  the  incline.  Spray  rises  in  clouds  that  drench 
us  to  the  skin  as  we  plunge  through  the  "great  swell"  and 
then  shoot  out  among  a  multitude  of  tumbling  billows  that 
threaten  to  engulf  us.  The  canoe  rides  upon  the  backs  of 
the  "white  horses"  and  we  rise  and  fall,  rise  and  fall,  as  they 
fight  beneath  us.  At  last  we  leave  their  wild  arena,  and,  enter- 
ing calmer  water,  paddle  away  to  the  end  of  the  portage 
trail. 

One  morning,  soon  after  sunrise,  the  brigade  came  to  the  end 
of  its  journey  as  it  rounded  a  point  and  headed  for  a  smoking 
steamboat  that  rested  upon  a  shimmering  lake;  and  so  entirely 
did  the  rising  mist  envelop  the  craft  that  it  suggested  the 
silhouette  of  a  distant  mountain  in  volcanic  eruption.  Then 
the  canoes,  each  in  turn,  lay  alongside  the  steamer;  the  fm* 
packs  were  loaded  aboard,  and  thence  by  steamboat  and  rail- 


BUSINESS  AND  ROMANCE  323 

road  they  continued  their  journey  to  Montreal;  where  together 
with  the  "returns"  from  many  another  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company's  thirty-four  districts,  they  were  reshipped  in  ocean- 
going craft  for  England  where  eventually  they  were  sold  by 
auction  in  London. 

A  hundred  years  ago  as  many  as  ten  brigades,  each  number- 
ing twenty  six-fathom  canoes,  sometimes  swept  along  those 
northern  highways  and  awoke  those  wild  soUtudes  with  the 
rollicking  songs  and  laughter  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  hundred 
voyageurs;  but  alas  for  those  wonderfully  picturesque  days  of 
bygone  times!  The  steamboats  and  the  railroads  have  driven 
them  away. 

In  my  youth,  however,  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  have 
travelled  with  the  last  of  those  once-famous  fur  brigades;  and 
also  to  have  learned  from  personal  experience  the  daily  life 
of  the  northern  woods — the  drama  of  the  forests — of  which  in 
my  still  earlier  youth  I  had  had  so  many  day-dreams;  and  now 
if  in  describing  and  depicting  it  to  you  I  have  succeeded  in  im- 
parting at  least  a  fraction  of  the  pleasure  it  gave  me  to  witness 
it,  I  am  well  repaid.  But  perhaps  you  are  wondering  about  the 
beautiful  Athabasca? 

ATHABASCA  AND  SON-IN-LAW 

Some  years  later,  while  on  my  second  visit  to  Fort  Con- 
solation, I  not  only  found  a  flourishing  town  of  some  four  or 
five  thousand  inhabitants  built  on  Free  Trader  Spear's  original 
fireehold,  but  in  the  handsome  brick  City  Hall — standing  in 
the  original  stump-lot — I  met  the  old  Free  Trader  himself,  now 
holding  office  as  the  Mayor  of  Spearhead  City.  Not  only  had 
he  become  wealthy — ^rumour  said  he  was  already  a  miUionaire — 
but  he  had  taken  another  man  into  partnership,  for  now  over 
his  big  brick  storehouse  read  a  huge  sign  in  golden  letters 
"Spear  and    ..."    For  like  all  day-dreams — ^if  only 


324  THE  DRAMA  OF  THE  FORESTS 

dreamed  often  enough — the  ever-present  dream  of  the  Free 
Trader  and  his  wife  had  really  come  true. 

It  was  then  that  I  learned  that  soon  after  my  departure 
Prince  Charming  had  come  up  out  of  the  East,  fallen  in  love 
with  the  beautiful  Athabasca,  become  the  actual  Son-in-law, 
had  been  taken  into  partnership  by  her  father,  and  together 
the  lucky  groom  and  his  blushing  bride  had  moved  into  their 
newly  built  log  cabin,  furnished  with  the  long-promised  bed, 
table,  and  chairs,  the  cooking  stove,  blankets,  crockery,  cutlery, 
and  cooking  utensils.  Round  about  their  simple  little  home  a 
heifer,  a  pig,  and  some  ducks  and  geese  stood  guard  while  their 
beautiful  mistress  lived  happy  ever  after — at  least  she  did  until 
prosperity  inveigled  her  into  a  grand  new  brick  mansion; 
and  then,  of  course,  her  troubles  began,  because  happiness 
always  prefers  a  cabin  to  a  castle. 


THE  END 


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